THE  IMPERISHABLE  HEART 


JAMES  CRAIG  BUCHANAN 


UBRARY  OF  RELIGIOUS  THOUGHT 


BX  9178  .B8  146  1917 
Buchanan,  James  Craig. 
The  imperishable  heart 


Bm 


^'A 


The   Imperishable  Heart 


14  19: 


And  Other  Pulpit  Addresses 


BY 


JAMES  CRAIG  BUCHANAN,  M.  A. 

>  >  .1 


BOSTON:  THE  GORHAM  PRESS 

TORONTO:      THE    COPP     CLARK     CO.,   LIMITED 


Copyright,  1917,  by  James  Craig  Buchanan 


All  Rights  Reserved 


MADE  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 

The  GtoRHAM  Press,  Boston,  U.  S.  A. 


To 

MY  MOTHER 

and  to  the  Memory  of 

MY  FATHER 

without  whose   spiritual   nurture 

-as  without  their  natural  parenthood- 

these  Addresses 

could  not  have  been. 


PREFACE 

These  Addresses  have  been  selected  from  those  prepared 

in  the  course  of  my  usual  week-to-week  ministrations  as 

preacher  and  pastor. 

The  Addresses  appear  here  as  nearly  as  possible  word  for 

word  as  they  were  delivered. 

My  hearty  thanks  are  due  to  the  Rev.  Wm.  H.  Boocock 

for  wise  and  brotherly  counsel  regarding  the  publication 

of  these  addresses;    also  to  another  friend,  who  shall  be 

nameless  here,  but  who  dare  not  deny  me  the  privilege  of 

acknowledging  his  kindness  on  this  page. 

J.  C.  B. 

First  Presbyterian  Church, 

Gowanda,  New  York. 

January  i,  19 17. 


CONTENTS 

Page 

I.    THE  IMPERISHABLE  HEART. ....     13 
''Your    heart    shall    live    for    ever,** — 
Psalm  XXII,  26. 

11.     SOUL  TRANSFERENCE 22 

"Ij  your  soul  were  in  my  soul's  stead/' 
—Job  XVI,  4. 

IIL    THE   EVERLASTING  NOW 31 

''Behold,  now  is  the  accepted  time;  be- 
hold, now  is  the  day  of  salvation.** 
— II  Corinthians  VI,  2. 

IV.    THE  ONE  MASTER 42 

"One  is  your  master,  even  Christ** — 
Matthew  XXIII,  10. 

V.     SACRIFICES  OF  JOY 52 

"Therefore  will  I  offer  .  .  .  sacri- 
fices of  ;o>^.'— Psalm  XXVII,  6. 

VI.    ARE  WE  ALL  SINNERS  ? 62 

"If  we  say  that  we  have  no  sin,  we  de- 
ceive ourselves** — I.  John  I,  8. 
VII.     MANY  THINGS,  BUT  NOT  THE 

THING 72 

"He  did  many  things** — Mark  VI,  20. 

Vin.     SPOILED    81 

"And  when  thou  art  spoiled,  what  wilt 
thou  do?** — Jeremiah  IV,  30. 

IX.     CHRISTIAN  COURTESY 90 

"Be  courteous** — I  Peter  III,  8. 

X.     COMPLAINING    99 

"And  when  the  people  complained,  it  dis- 
pleased the  LORD"  —  Joshua 
XI,  I. 


CONTENTS 

Page 
XL     WAS     EVER     ANY     ONE     DISAP- 
POINTED IN  JESUS  ? 109 

"And  they  that  were  sent  went  their  way, 
and  found  even  as  He  had  said  unto 
them" — Luke  XIX,  32. 

XIL     DISTRACTIONS   119 

"And  as  thy  servant  was  busy  here  and 
there,  he  was  gone." — I  Kings 
XX,  40. 

XIII.  HINDERERS  129 

"Deliver  me  from  the  oppression  of  man : 
so  will  I  keep  Thy  precepts" — 
Psalm  CXIX,  134. 

XIV.  THE    HAPPINESS    OF    HOLDING 

ON 139 

"Beholdj  we  count  them  happy  which  en- 
dure."— James  V,  ii. 
XV.     THE  DIVINE  ARITHMETIC 149 

"So  teach  us  to  number  our  days,  that  we 
may  apply  our  hearts  unto  wisdom." 
— Psalm  XC,  12. 
XVI.     THE  SUPERIOR  BLESSEDNESS  OF 

GIVING   159 

"It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  re- 
ceive.."— Acts  XX,  35. 
XVII.     DISHONORABLE         EXEMPTION 

FROM  SERVICE 169 

"And  the  officers  shall  speak  further  unto 
the  people,  and  they  shall  say.  What 
man  is  there  that  is  fearful  and 
fainthearted?  Let  him  go  and  re- 
turn unto  his  house  J  lest  his  breth- 
ren's heart  faint  as  well  as  his." — 
Deuteronomy  XX,  8. 
XVIII.     REFRESHMENT  OF  SPIRIT. . . ... .    179 

"For  they  have  refreshed  my  spirit." — 
I  Corinthians  XVL  18. 


CONTENTS 

Page 
XIX.     NO  FUEL,  NO  FIRE 189 

"Where  no  wood  is,  there  the  fire  goeth 
out." — Proverbs  XXVI,  20. 
XX.     "THE  GIFT  WITHOUT  THE  GIV- 
ER IS  BARE"   200 

"They     .     .     .     first    gave    their    own 
selves  to  the  Lord." — II  Corinth- 
ians VIII,  5. 
XXI.    "FAITH  DIVERSIFIED  BY  DOUBT"  210 
"Lord,  I  believe:  help  thou  mine  unbe- 
lief."— Mark  IX,  24. 

XXII.    ABIDING  WEALTH   .^ 220 

''     .     .     .     rich  toward  God." — LuKE 
XII,  21. 

XXIII.  SONGS  IN  THE  NIGHT.  (Christmas, 

I9I5)       ; 230 

"God  my  maker,  who  giveth  songs  in  the 
night."— Joe  XXXV,  10. 

XXIV.  THE  CHILDREN 240 

"And  He  took  a  child,  and  set  him  in  the 
midst." — Mark  IX,  36. 

XXV.     THE  MOTHERS  250 

"Thy    mother   shall    be   glad." — Prov- 
erbs XXIII,  25. 


"The  soul  may  be  trusted  to  the  end."     .     .     . 

— Emerson. 

"Faith  Is  a  certitude  without  proofs.     Being  a  certitude, 
it  is  an  energetic  principle  of  action.     .     .     . 
Faith  is  a  sentiment,  for  it  is  a  hope;    it  is  an  instinct, 

for  it  precedes  all  outward  instruction. 
Faith  is  the  heritage  of  the  individual  at  birth ;  it  is.  that 
which  binds  him  to  the  whole  of  being."     .     .     . 

— ^Amiel. 

"But  where  will  God  be  absent?    In  His  face 
Is  light ;  but  in  His  shadow  healing,  too."   .  .   . 

— Browning. 

"I  should  bear  false  witness  if  I  did  not  declare  life  hap- 
py." — Stevenson. 

"The  Love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord." 
.    .    .  —St.  Paul. 


The   Imperishable    Heart 

I 

THE  IMPERISHABLE  HEART 

''Your  heart  shall  live  for  ever." — PsALM  XXII,  26. 

np  HIS  Psalm,  like  so  many  of  the  Psalms,  is  not  all 
of  one  hue.  It  begins  with  plaint  and  pleading,  and 
ends  with  praise  and  promise.  It  is,  in  the  first  part  of 
it,  the  cry  of  a  sorely-tried  and  much-thwarted  life;  but 
suddenly  (at  the  22nd  verse)  the  tone  changes,  and  the 
poem  tells  of  prayer  answered  and  of  ground  for  grati- 
tude and  of  good  days  ahead:  "The  meek  shall  eat  and 
be  satisfied;  they  shall  praise  the  Lord  that  seek  Him; 
your  heart  shall  live  for  ever." 

Whether  the  words  of  our  text  were  spoken  to  an  indi- 
vidual or  to  the  nation  as  a  whole,  matters  little.  The 
suggestion  is  the  same  in  either  case.  The  life  of  the  God- 
trusting  soul — or  of  the  God-trusting  people — is  secure. 
The  essentials  of  their  lives  cannot  be  destroyed.  The 
"heart"  of  their  experiences,  of  their  aspirations,  of  their 
joys,  of  their  achievements  in  righteousness  and  usefulness 
is  immortal,  and  cannot  die.  "Your  heart  shall  live  for 
ever." 

It  is  told  of  the  ancient  Scottish  king,  Robert  the  Bruce, 
that,  when  he  died,  his  heart  was  cut  out  and  placed  in  a 
silver  casket  by  one  of  the  fiery  Douglases:  and  wherever 
that  casket  went — with  its  precious  contents — courage 
went  with  the  army.     And,  when  James  Douglas  was 

13 


14  The  Imperishable  Heart 

wounded  to  the  death,  he  untied  the  casket  from  his  own 
neck  and  threw  it  into  the  midst  of  his  battalion,  that  the 
fire  and  force  of  the  dead  Bruce  might  remain  with  his 
men. 

If  you  go  over  to  London,  and  enter  Westminster  Ab- 
bey by  the  West  door,  and  turn  to  the  left  and  walk  up 
the  North  aisle,  you  will  come  to  a  stone  slab  let  into  the 
floor.  In  fact  you  will  probably  walk  over  it.  It  is  the 
tombstone  of  David  Livingstone.  But  before  Livingstone's 
body  had  been  brought  home  from  Africa  to  England  and 
buried  in  the  Abbey,  what  had  happened?  One  May 
morning,  forty-one  years  ago,  the  great  missionary-explorer 
had  been  found  by  his  faithful  native  servants  dead  at  his 
bedside — kneeling  in  the  attitude  of  prayer.  Purposing 
to  embalm  his  body  and  carry  it  to  the  coast,  these  natives 
first  of  all  took  out  the  heart  and  buried  it  at  the  foot  of  a 
large  tree  there — in  the  village  of  Ilala.  A  touching, 
though  unconscious,  prophecy  on  the  part  of  these  dark 
sons  of  Africa  that  the  heart  of  Livingstone  would  always 
remain  in  the  Dark  Continent — until  that  continent  should 
be  flooded  with  the  light  of  the  Gospel !  And  their  proph- 
ecy has  not  failed  of  fulfilment.  For,  while  Livingstone 
was  but  one  of  a  mere  corporal's  guard  of  Christian  mis- 
sionaries in  Africa  half  a  century  ago,  there  are  scores  of 
men  and  women  there  now — ^both  in  the  center  of  the 
country  and  on  its  coasts — opening  up  the  country  and 
letting  in  the  light  of  civilization  and  the  message  of  the 
love  of  Christ.  Truly  that  missionary  heart  (although 
the  actual  heart  of  flesh  would  probably  by  this  time,  were 
it  exhumed,  be  indistinguishable  from  the  dust  in  which  it 
was  buried) — truly  that  missionary  heart  *lives  for  ever.* 


The  Imperishable  Heart  15 

"The  mainspring  of  life,"  it  has  been  said,  "is  in  the 
heart." 

You  know  how  literally  true  that  is  of  our  physical 
life.  So  long  as  the  heart  continues  to  beat,  there  is  life 
and  there  is  hope. 

Similarly,  so  long  as  the  heart  of  any  experience  or  of 
any  worthy  movement  or  of  any  human  achievement  is  not 
killed  out,  the  thing  lives.  There  is  something  abiding — 
something  immortal — at  the  heart  of  everything  that  is 
at  all  worth  while.     "Your  heart  shall  live  for  ever." 

My  last  morning  at  sea,  lately, — just  as  we  were  enter- 
ing Boston  harbor — a  gentleman  sitting  at  the  same  break- 
fast-table with  me  said,  "Well,  we  may  never  have  another 
trip  across  the  Atlantic;  but  nobody  can  take  away  this 
one  from  us."  There  was  no  silly  sigh  that  the  voyage 
was  over  and  done-with — a  thing  of  the  past ;  but  a  smile 
of  satisfaction  that,  after  all,  it  could  never  be  over  and 
done-with — could  never  be  a  thing  of  the  past.  The 
memory  of  it,  the  benefit  of  it  to  both  body  and  soul,  the 
passing  companionships  of  it,  the  whole  blessing  of  it,  the 
"heart"  of  it,  are  here  for  all  time.  O,  my  friends,  it  is 
a  dangerous  habit — a  faithless  habit, — moaning  over  what 
has  been:  the  irrevocable  past,  as  it  is  sometimes  phrased. 
It  is  not  wholly  irrevocable, — beyond  recall.  In  various 
ways  it  may  be  recalled.  The  essentials  of  our  past  ex- 
periences remain  with  us, — bound  up  with  what  we  are 
and  what  we  think  and  what  we  do  today.  The  "heart" 
of  the  days  gone  by  is  with  us  still.  For  the  wisdom  of 
God,  and  the  love  of  God,  which  are — somehow — at  the 
core  of  all  our  experiences,  are  "the  same  yesterday,  and 
today,  and  for  ever." 


1 6  The  Imperishable  Heart 

"There  shall  never  be  one  lost  good!  What  was,  shall 
live  as  before." 
You,  my  friend  of  fifty  or  sixty  or  seventy,  do  you 
mean  to  tell  me  that  the  boyishness-of-it — or  the  girlish- 
ness-of-it — has  entirely  vanished  from  your  nature;  or 
that  3^ou  have  lost  every  jot  and  tittle  of  the  spring  of 
youth?  I  refuse  to  believe  it:  that  is,  if  you  are  living 
with  your  face  toward  the  light  and  'waiting  on  thy  God 
continually.'  Don't  we  read,  in  one  of  the  praise-Psalms, 
of  the  'renewal  of  youth?'  Don't  we  hear  the  prophet 
Isaiah  say,  "They  that  wait  upon  the  Lord  shall  renew 
their  strength :  they  shall  mount  up  with  wings  as  eagles ; 
.  .  .  shall  run,  and  not  be  weary;'  "  shall  walk,  and 
not  faint.  And  it  was  not  to  the  youngsters  exclusively 
— it  was  to  all  and  sundry — that  our  Saviour  said,  "Verily 
I  say  unto  you,  Except  ye  .  .  .  become  as  little  chil- 
dren, ye  shall  not  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  Yes, 
mark  you.  He  seems  to  indicate,  there,  that  it  is  partly 
within  our  own  choice  and  within  our  own  power  to  re- 
tain the  best  characteristics  and  the  best  blessings — to  keep 
the  soul — of  our  earlier  days. 

There  was  published,  the  other  day,  a  book  by  a  British 
preacher — recently  gone  to  his  long  home,  entitled  "The 
Romance  of  Preaching:"  in  which  the  author  says  that 
the  great  task  of  the  preacher  is  "keeping  the  soul  of  the 
world  alive."  Yes,  my  friends,  that  is  the  "joy  and 
crown"  of  us  preachers.  Not  familiarizing  people  with 
nam.es  and  things,  with  theories  and  systems.  Nor  yet 
continually  nagging  at  people  as  to  what  they  should  do 
— and  should  not  do   (after  all,  the  majority  of  people 


The  Imperishable  Heart  17 

don't  need  to  be  told  that).  But  inspiring  people,  ac- 
cording to  our  gift  and  power.  And  that,  largely,  by 
persuading  them  that  this  world  as  God  has  made  it — 
with  all  its  sights  and  sounds,  and  with  all  its  human  ex- 
periences, and  with  its  sweet  story  of  the  Christ — has 
a  soul  to  it;  that  there  is  good  and  glory  at  the  heart  of 
it  all — something  which  abides  and  is  alive  for  evermore 
(unless  we  ourselves  do  the  smothering  and  the  killing). 

Yes,  ''your  heart  shall  live  for  ever!"  That  is  the 
preacher's  message  to  every  human  life,  to  every  institu- 
tion that  is  'making  for  righteousness,'  and  to  every  good 
impulse  that  he  may  detect  in  man  or  woman — or  boy  or 
girl. 

And,  'their  heart  shall  live  for  ever!'  That  is  the  mes- 
sage of  the  preacher  to  his  fellows  about  their  various  mor- 
tal experiences:  about  the  influences  of  the  flowers  and 
the  stars,  and  their  books  and  their  pictures,  and  their 
friendships,  and  their  joys  and  their  sorrows. 

We  need  just  such  a  message — all  of  us.  Because,  our 
memories  are  rather  short  sometimes,  and  we  are  too  much 
occupied — sometimes — with  the  mere  outward  trappings 
of  our  experiences;  and  so  we  feel  that  many  things  are 
slipping  away  from  us,  which  we  would  fain  keep. 

But  don't  let  us  get  discouraged.  For,  after  all,  if  the 
"heart"  of  a  thing  ''lives"  with  us,  that  is  the  main 
point. 

For  instance,  I  read  Emerson  frequently.  I  just  revel 
in  those  wonderful  essays  of  his.  And  yet  I  would  not 
undertake  to  quote  exactly — here  and  now — more  than 
about  three  short  sentences  from  Emerson.  Well,  per- 
haps I  should  cultivate  a  more  retentive  memory.     But  I 


1 8  The  Imperishable  Heart 

am  not  worrying:  because  I  believe  I  have  captured  the 
"heart"  of  these  writings.  I  think  I  understand  their 
essential  message.  They  have  gripped  me,  and  influenced 
my  whole  way  of  thinking. 

I  am  a  great  believer,  indeed,  In  people  memorizing, — 
especially  young  people;  and  I  am  mightily  glad  that  I 
was  made,  long  ago,  to  get  by  heart  sundry  passages  of  the 
Great  Book  here  and  some  of  our  best  Christian  hymns. 
Call  It  a  mechanical  type  of  teaching,  If  you  like:  it  is 
immensely  useful,  and  it  will  be  a  poor  day  when  our  boys 
and  girls  get  the  notion  that  memorizing  is  beneath  them. 
All  the  same,  my  friends,  the  chief  thing  Is  to  "pluck  out 
the  heart"  of  a  book — to  get  the  spiritual  dynamic  of  It 
Into  our  personalities — to  make  sure  that  its  life  energizes 
within  us.  We  ought  to  be  able  to  say  to  the  best  books — 
and  to  this  Book  above  all, — "Your  heart  shall  live"  In 
me  "for  ever."  And  so  It  is  that  Stevenson  says  some- 
where, "When  you  have  read"  (persumably  he  means  a 
really  worthy  and  substantial  book) — "when  you  have 
read,  .  .  .  it  Is  as  though  you  had  touched  a  loyal 
hand,  looked  Into  brave  eyes,  and  made  a  noble  friend; 
there  is  another  bond  on  you  thenceforward,  binding  you 
to  life  and  to  the  love  of  virtue." 

And  so,  my  friends,  with  a  great  and  pure  Love.  It 
cannot  die.  It  abides.  It  'lives  for  ever.'  It  may  be  sore 
tried  from  time  to  time.  It  may  grow  cold  occasionally, 
or  clammy  with  suspicion.  It  may  be  scorched,  now  and 
again,  with  the  fires  of  unholy  passion, — and  be  like  to 
turn  from  love  to  lust.  It  may  be  strained  almost  to  the 
breaking  point,  sometimes,  for  lack  of  being  reciprocated. 


The  Imperishable  Heart  19 

And,  finally,  it  may  be  bereaved — robbed  of  the  mortal 
comradeship  of  its  beloved.  But,  if  it  is  a  true  Love, 
none  of  these  things  can  spear  the  ''heart"  of  it.  It  lives 
to  all  eternity. 

"Time  cannot  age  it, 
Death  cannot  slay." 

"Many  waters  cannot  quench  love,  neither  can  the 
floods  drown  it." 

O,  surely,  my  friends,  that  is  fact,  and  not  merely  rhet- 
oric. Surely  we  are  encouraged  to  believe  that,  although 
separation  may  continue  for  a  time,  we  may  look  for  a 
day  of  re-union — the  day  of  Love  Triumphant. 

And  so,  again,  with  a  great  Sorrow.  The  outward 
trappings  of  it — the  particular  circumstances  of  it — 
become  things  of  yesterday.  The  pressing  poig- 
nancy of  it  disappears  by  and  by,  and  only  returns 
occasionally  in  the  form  of  a  dull  ache.  Sometimes,  indeed, 
we  are  almost  ashamed  of  ourselves  for  having  gotten  back, 
so  soon  after  a  time  of  trial,  the  old  smile  and  the  old 
buoyancy.  That,  however,  is  of  the  mercy  of  God.  But, 
my  friends,  what  we  cannot  afford  to  do — what  we  can- 
not do,  if  our  spirits  are  "finely  touched  ...  to  fine 
issues"  and  if  we  have  "the  smallest  scruple  of"  Nature's 
"excellence" — (what  we  cannot  do)  is  to  forget  entirely 
the  touch  of  a  chaste  and  noble  sorrow — to  let  the 
"heart"  of  it  go.  You  are  playing  a  perilous  part  if  you 
are  telling  people  lightly  to  forget  their  griefs — to  "get 
over"  them.  They  can't  get  over  them:  at  least,  they 
ought  not.  Let  us  hope,  indeed,  that  their  griefs  will  not 
get  over  them,  but  get  into  them — become  part  of  their 


20  The  Imperishable  Heart 

deepening   and  expanding  life. 

There  are,  perhaps,  some  sorrows — neither  chaste  nor 
noble — which  are  best  forgotten  wholly  and  for  ever.  But 
most  sorrows,  I  will  say,  if  we  could  see  to  the  *'heart" 
of  them,  are  the  gift  of  God ;  and  so  their  issue  is  for  all 
time. 

And  then  my  friends,  as  we  stand  in  amazement,  or  as 
we  kneel  in  humility,  at  the  Cross  of  Christ,  are  we  not 
bound  to  say,  "Your  heart  shall  live  for  ever". 

Near  nineteen  centuries  ago,  now,  that  instrument  of 
crucifixion  was  taken  down ;  and  we  are  not  sure,  at  this 
time  of  day,  of  the  precise  spot  where  it  stood  when  Jesus 
hung  upon  it.  But  the  "heart"  of  that  symbol  of  Ever- 
lasting Love  'lives  for  ever.'  The  mighty  comfort  of  it 
we  know  and  prize  today.  The  compulsion  of  it  we  feel  and 
respond  to — today.  What  are  alleged  to  be  broken  pieces 
of  that  Cross  are  still  shown  to  travellers  in  some  of  the 
Cathedrals  of  Europe :  but  these  are  only  improbable  relics. 
And,  even  if  we  could  actually  handle  the  very  spars  that 
were  pressed  by  our  Saviour's  tortured  limbs,  what  of 
that?  It  is  not  the  wood  of  the  cross,  it  is  the  worth  of 
the  cross  we  wish  to  feel.  It  is  the  meaning  of  the  great 
sacrifice  on  Calvary  that  we  want  to  know, — and  that  we 
may  surely  know  if  we  read  here  and  if  we  ask  of  those 
who  have  been  "apprehended  of  Christ  Jesus."  It  is  the 
meaning  of  it  for  suffering  and  sin-stricken  Humanity, — 
"the  Love  of  God  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord." 
And  so,  when  we  speak  of  "the  Cross  of  Christ,"  we  are 
not  thinking  of  an  unsightly  wooden  instrument  of  tor- 
ture and  shame:  what  we  are  thinking  of  is  that  Love 


The  Imperishable  Heart  21 

whose  "breadth  and  length  and  depth  and  height"  we 
cannot,  indeed,  "comprehend,"  but  whose  tenderness  and 
forbearance  we  have  experienced  a  thousand  times,  and  in 
whose  inspiration  the  world's  best  men  and  women  have 
lived  and  died. 

"It  is  God;    His  love  looks  mighty, 
But  is  mightier  than  it  seems : 
'Tis  our  Father;  and  His  fondness 
Goes  far  out  beyond  our  dreams." 

Here,  then,  brethren,  is  the  conclusion  of  the  whole 
matter  this  evening.  Make  sure  that  you  get  to  the 
'heart"  of  things.  Your  daily  tasks:  your  reading  and 
your  studies:  the  beauties  and  bounties  of  Nature:  your 
friendships:  your  joys,  and  your  sorrows:  your  acquaint- 
anceship with  the  "Strong  Son  of  God" — with  His  life 
and  teaching — with  His  Death  of  Love  and  Resurrection 
of  Power.  Make  sure  that  you  get  right  into  the  heart 
of  all  these  things.  For  GOD  is  at  the  heart  of  them, — 
His  gracious  purposes  and  His  immortal  Love. 

And  (need  I  tell  you?)  the  only  way  to  reach  the 
heart  of  things,  and  to  discern  God's  heart-beat  there,  is 
to  keep  your  own  hearts  pure: 

"Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart: 
for  they  shall  see  GOD." 


II 

SOUL  TRANSFERENCE 
"If  your  soul  were  in  my  soul's  stead.'^ — Job  XVI,  4. 

'  I  ^  HERE  are  people  who  mean  well,  but  they  don't 
know  how.  They  have  a  sort  of  neighborly  Instinct 
— an  instinct  of  helpfulness;  but  they  do  not  fully  under- 
stand. Consequently  their  performances  are  not  as  good 
as  their  purposes.  Why?  Because  they  haven't  the  fac- 
ulty (which,  by  the  way,  is  partly  a  gift,  partly  an  ac- 
quisition)— they  haven't  the  faculty  of  putting  themselves 
in  other  people's  places,  the  faculty  of  understandingly 
and  feelingly  'rejoicing  with  them  that  do  rejoice  and 
weeping  with  them  that  weep.'  Their  sympathy  is,  per- 
haps, sincere  enough,  but  rather  superficial:  pious  enough, 
perhaps,  but  lacking  in  perspective  and  in  power  of  pro- 
jection. 

Job's  three  friends  were  of  that  class.  They  meant 
well,  but  they  didn't  know  how.  They  said  many  true 
things,  many  wise  things,  many  wonderful  things, — and 
even  some  kind  things;  but,  somehow  or  other,  they  cut 
and  crushed  more  than  they  comforted. 

So  much  so,  indeed,  that,  after  they  had  spoken,  each 
once — and  the  first  of  them  twice,  Job  broke  out  in  the 
bitterness  of  his  soul  on  this  wise,  *'I  have  heard  many 
such  things:  miserable  comforters  axe  ye  all.  ...  I 
also  could  speak  as  ye  do;  if  your  soul  were  in  my 
soul's  stead,  I  could  heap  up  words  against  you.     .     .     . 

22 


Soul  Transference  23 

But  (in  such  case)  I  would  strengthen  you  with  my 
mouth,  and  the  moving  of  my  lips  should  assuage  your 
grief" — not  aggravate  it. 

"If  your  soul  were  in  my  soul's  stead!"  Ay,  there  was 
the  explanation  of  their  weakness,  and  the  sting  of  Job's 
loneliness.  They  were  not  in  his  place;  and,  moreover, 
had  not  sufficiently  tried  in  imagination  to  put  themselves 
in  his  place.  They  were  only  standing  at  the  portal  of 
Job's  grief:  they  had  not  sought  access  to  its  "secret  place." 
And,  unless  "spirit  with  spirit"  will  meet,  there  is  no 
fulness  of  understanding. 

"To  understand,"  it  has  been  said,  "(to  understand) 
is  more  difficult  than  to  judge,  for  understanding  is  the 
transference  of  the  mind  into  the  conditions  of  the  object, 
whereas  judgment  is  simply  the  enunciation  of  the  indi- 
vidual opinion."  Mark  that  phrase  there, — "the  trans- 
ference of  the  mind  into  the  conditions  of  the  object:" — 
"If  your  soul  were  in  my  soul's  stead!" 

Not  simply,  mark  you,  if  you  were  in  my  place — if  your 
circumstances  were  mine  and  mine  yours;  but,  if  your 
soul  were  in  my  soul's  stead — if  you  only  knew  the  secret 
surgings  of  my  heart  in  all  this  inexplicable  trouble! 

Yes,  indeed,  it  is  something  to  know  a  person's  circum- 
stances,— to  know  how  he  is  placed,  and  what  are  his  chief 
encouragements  and  chief  discouragements,  and  so  forth. 
But  that  is  not  enough.  We  must  know,  in  some  degree, 
the  person's  Self:  his  cast  of  thought,  his  type  of  temper- 
ament, his  tastes  (both  higher  and  lower),  his  heart's 
desires  (both  the  best  of  them  and  the  worst  of  them) :  in 
short,  his  individuality,  his  inner  life,  his  SOUL-LIFE. 


24  The  Imperishable  Heart 

Oh,  it  is  easy  enough  to  pick  up  information  about  people, 
and  to  know  what  they  say  and  what  they  have  and  what 
they  do — without  knowing  almost  at  all  what  they  are^ 
as  human  entities,  as  Personalities,  as  Souls.  And  so,  there 
are  people  who  talk  knowingly  and  glibly,  and  with  an 
astonishing  and  almost  aggravating  familiarity,  about  the 
happenings  and  habits  of  your  life;  who,  nevertheless,  you 
feel  all  the  time,  are  hopelessly  lacking  in  insight  and  do 
not  understand.  And  there  are  even  people  who  wish  to 
be  kind  to  you  (and,  mark  you,  I  say  this  in  no  spirit 
of  cynicism) — there  are  even  people  who  wish  to  be  kind 
to  you,  but  whose  proffered  kindness  seems,  somehow,  to 
rub  you  the  wrong  way :  because  they,  again,  do  not  under- 
stand, and  so  succeed  only  in  patronizing — where  they  had 
meant  to  cheer  and  uplift. 

It  is  so  necessary  to  put  ourselves  in  other  people's 
places — not  merely  in  the  sense  of  'standing  in  their  shoes' 
(as  it  is  sometimes  phrased),  but,  if  by  any  means  pos- 
sible, by  dwelling  in  their  Souls:  not  merely  by  an 
imagined  transference  of  Place,  but  by  an  imagined  trans- 
ference of  Personality.  ''If  your  soul  were  in  my  soul's 
stead!" 

I  had  a  friend  in  the  Old  Country,  a  few  years  my 
junior,  w^ho  used  to  consult  me  a  good  deal  about  religious 
beliefs  and  religious  experiences,  when  I  was  at  the  theo- 
logical seminary  stage.  Being  at  that  stage,  I  was  young 
enough  and  naively  egotistical  enough,  to  say  very  fre- 
quently, "If  I  were  you,  I  would  do  so  and  so."  One 
evening,  when  we  were  discussing  something,  and  when  I 
had  come  out  with  my  usual  formula,  he  said  quietly,  "Yes, 
but  then,  you  see,  youre  not  me  and  Fm  not  you''     It 


Soul  Transference  25 

was  one  of  the  best  things  that  was  ever  said  to  me:  one 
of  those  obvious  things  which  come,  however,  with  an 
altogether  new  flash  of  illumination  when  spoken  in  cer- 
tain circumstances  and  at  a  psychological  moment.  It  set 
me  thinking.  It  served  to  increase  considerably  my  store 
of  human  thoughtfulness,  of  charity,  of  Christian  toler- 
ance. It  served  to  remind  me  that  we  are  not  all  made 
after  the  same  pattern;  that  we  have — each  of  us — our 
own  lives  to  live, — our  own  thoughts,  our  own  points 
of  view,  our  own  tastes  and  temperaments;  that,  as  the 
Book  of  Revelation  has  it,  each  one  of  us  has  a  "name 
written,  which  no  man  knoweth  saving  he  that  receiveth 
it." 

Then,  I  remember  being  greatly  impressed,  years  ago, 
with  the  reading  of  an  Address  which  was  given  to  the 
students  of  the  University  of  Glasgow  by  Joseph  Cham- 
berlain (then  at  the  height  of  his  power)  on  the  cultiva- 
tion of  the  Imagination  in  our  relations  with  others.  That, 
I  dare  say,  was  not  the  exact  title  of  the  address ;  but  that 
was  the  subject.  It  was  certainly  most  suggestive  and 
helpful,  and  I  have  never  happened  to  see  the  subject  dealt 
with  in  the  same  way  since.  He  began  (unless  my  memory 
plays  me  false),  by  referring  to  the  various  possible  uses  of 
the  imagination.  Then  he  narrowed  himself  down  to  this 
one  use,  this  most  humane  of  all  the  uses,  of  the  Imagina- 
tion: namely,  trying,  by  a  concentrated  and  chastened  ef- 
fort of  mind,  to  occupy  other  people's  places,  to  experi- 
ence as  nearly  as  possible  what  they  are  thinking  and 
planning  and  suffering  and  rejoicing  in,  and  so  on.  It  was 
in  a  daily  newspaper  that  I  read  the  address,  and  I  did  not 
keep  a  copy  of  it.     But  I  have  often,  often  thought  of  it 


26  The  Imperishable  Heart 

since.  Because,  while  we  use  our  imaginations  in  all  sorts 
of  ways, — frivolously  and  fantastically,  and  riotously,  and 
suspiciously;  we  do  not  use  them  anything  like  often 
enough  in  the  humane  and  sympathetic  way  I  am  trying 
to  urge  upon  you  this  evening, — trying  to  understand 
folk's  Souls,  as  well  as  their  Circumstances. 

Indeed,  friends,  some  of  the  Finer  Human  Sentiments — 
especially  the  more  Christ-like  Sentiments — are  simply  im- 
possible without  this  getting  of  ourselves,  perceivingly  and 
humbly  and  courteously,  into  the  sanctuaries  of  other  peo- 
ple's lives.  Such  things  as  Gratitude,  Thoughtfulness, 
Sympathy,  Persuasiveness,  Forgiveness,  Charity:  such 
things  as  these,  in  anything  like  sincerity  and  depth  (I 
mean),  are  impossible  of  attainment  without  a  certain 
"transference  of  the  mind,"  without  a  sort  of  exchange  of 
Place  and  Personality — by  a  sane  and  sanctified  use  of  the 
Imagination.  Listen  to  what  George  Eliot  says  about 
"charity  towards  our  stumbling,  falling  companions  in  the 
long  .  .  .  journey."  "There  is  but  one  way,"  she 
says,  "in  which  a  strong  determined  soul  can  learn  it — 
by  getting  his  heart-strings  bound  round  the  weak  and 
erring,  so  that  he  must  share  not  only  the  outward  con- 
sequence of  their  error,  but  their  inward  suffering."  Oh, 
how  wise,  how  gracious,  how  understanding  of  that  clever 
woman  to  say  that!  And,  as  with  charity,  so  with  such 
other  Finer  Sentiments  as  I  have  mentioned.  Gratitude, 
for  instance.  How  can  you  be  fairly — not  to  say  gener- 
ously— grateful,  unless  you  try  to  appreciate  the  tender- 
ness-of-soul  that  prompted  your  friend's  gift  to  you,  or 
perhaps  the  sacrifice  that  made  it  possible  ?     In  particular, 


Soul  Transference  ^7 

brethren,  how  can  we  be  half-thankful  enough  for  the 
Cross  of  CHRIST,  if  we  do  not  meditate  considerably  on 
tiie  amazing  amount  of  Soul  that  went  with  it — on  the 
tender  and  tenacious  Love  that  made  it  possible.  Some 
such  thought,  I  fancy,  was  in  the  Apostle's  mind  when  he 
wrote,  "That  Christ  may  dwell  in  your  hearts  by  faith; 
that  ye,  being  rooted  and  grounded  in  love,  may  be  able  to 
comprehend  .  .  .  what  is  the  breadth,  and  length, 
and  depth,  and  height"  of  "the  Love  of  CHRIST." 

"If  your  soul  were  in  my  soul's  stead!"  Oh,  my 
friends,  how  different  things  would  be,  many  ways,  if  we 
could  only  get  the  pith  of  that  saying  into  our  minds  and 
methods ! 

How  many  barbed  words  would  never  be  spoken !  You 
must  have  known  cases  where  a  bitter  word  was  the  last 
straw,  so  to  speak:  the  cut  that  broke  a  fellow-mortal's 
nerve  and  composure.  You  didn't  know  that  she  was 
weary  and  worn  and  all  on  edge  with  a  harassing  day, 
when  you  spurted  out  your  sarcasm  or  your  taunt;  but 
it  was  that  way,  and  so  it  was  just  one  stroke  more  than 
she  could  bear.     Perhaps  you  might  have  thought? 

How  many  little  discourtesies,  too,  would  never  take 
place, — and  how  many  little  courtesies  would  be  added 
over  and  above! 

How  many  an  unsympathetic  remark,  too,  from  older 
to  younger  or  from  younger  to  older,  would  never  find 
breathing-room,  if  only  younger  and  older  would  change 
places  a  little  more — in  thought! 

And  how  many  a  wayward  and  disappointing  child 
would  be  appalled  at  himself,  and  would  repent  in  dust 


28  The  Imperishable  Heart 

and  ashes, — could  he  but  half  think  himself  into  his 
parents'  grim  experience,  into  their  soreness  and  shame  of 
heart  on  his  account! 

And  then,  my  friends,  how  in  the  world  are  we  ever  to 
tackle  our  social  and  industrial  problems — except  by  this 
sort  of  "transference  of  mind?"  It  is  not  enough  to  visit 
factories  and  mines,  and  so  forth,  and  see  with  our  eyes 
of  flesh  the  conditions  in  which  some  people  have  to 
work.  We  must  use  our  mind's  eyes  as  well,  and  try  to 
realize  to  ourselves  how  the  ambitions  and  aspirations  and 
finer  sentiments  of  men  and  women  are  shaped  by  their 
environments  and  by  their  kind  of  day's  work.  We 
must  not  merely  put  ourselves  in  their  "places;"  but  also 
get  ourselves,  as  it  were,  inside  their  clothes,  and  inside 
their  skulls  (where  the  brain  is),  and  inside  their  breasts 
(where  the  heart  is).  We  must,  as  far  as  possible,  BE 
THEM  (I  know  that  is  bad  English,  but  it  is  the  most 
expressive  I  can  find).  We  must  as  far  as  possible  BE 
THEM.  "If  your  soul  were  in  my  soul's  stead !"  It  was 
Phillips  Brooks  who  said,  "You  cannot  do  your  duty  to 
the  poor  by  a  society,  your  life  must  touch  their  life." 

Now,  my  friends,  perhaps  you  will  say  that  this  thinking 
ourselves  into  other  people's  experiences  is  a  very  difficult 
process. 

Well,  be  it  so, — are  we  not  manly  and  womanly  enough, 
are  we  not  Christian  enough,  to  admit  that,  if  it  is  diffi- 
cult, it  is  all  the  more  worth  while? 

Besides,  it  is  wonderful  what  can  be  done  in  the  way  of 
cultivating  this  sane  and  sanctified  imagination — this  "un- 
derstanding" human  touch. 


Soul  Transference  29 

Pardon  me  alluding  once  more  to  my  own  experience. 
At  one  time,  during  my  former  pastorate,  I  had  been 
calling  every  day — for  a  week  or  so — at  a  home  where  a 
little  child  lay  dying.  It  came,  in  course,  to  the  day  which 
was  to  be  her  last  on  earth.  We  all  knew  it.  Well,  as 
I  stood  there  by  the  child's  bedside,  I  said  to  myself, 
'What  an  unspeakable  wrench  this  must  be  for  the  father 
and  mother  of  that  little  one!  What  must  it  be  like?' 
And  there  and  then  I  fell  into  a  sort  of  deliberate  abstrac- 
tion, used  my  imagination  to  its  utmost  limit,  and  thought 
myself  into  their  position  and  experience:  with  the  result 
that,  for  a  moment  or  two,  and  by  the  very  gift  of  God  it 
seemed  to  me,  I  FELT  WHAT  THEY  WERE  FEEL- 
ING. It  was  no  shadow  or  semblance.  For  the  short 
time  being,  it  was  the  Fact,  and  I  was  sure  of  it.  Of 
course  the  wrench  passed  away  from  my  heart  almost  the 
moment  it  had  come, — as  it  did  not  from  the  parents' 
hearts.     But  I  had  seen  the  vision.     I  had  felt 

''The  power  of  the  night,  the  press  of  the  storm." 
And,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  I  have  known,  ever  since,  as  I 
never  knew  before,  the  awful  desolation  that  is  brought  to 
pass  when  a  Little  Child  is  "taken  up"  out  of  a  Home.  It 
was  a  fulfilment,  in  my  case,  of  the  old  Prophetic  saying, 
"And  a  little  child  shall  lead  them." 

I  say,  then,  it  is  wonderful  what  we  can  do — if  we  try — 
in  the  way  of  putting  ourselves  in  other  people's  places,  in 
the  way  of  thinking  ourselves  into  their  experiences,  in 
the  way  of  feeling  with  them — that  we  may  sincerely  and 
helpfully  feel  for  them.  Try  it,  all  of  you:  and  you  will 
find  how  much  more  interesting,  and  how  much  deeper, 
your  lives  will  become, — and  how  much  more  humane  and 


30  The  Imperishable  Heart 

sympathetic  and  affectionate.  As  the  Apostle  has  it, 
"Look  not  every  man  on  his  own  things  only,  but  every 
man  also  on  the  things  of  others:  .  .  .  that  ye  be 
like-minded,  having  the  same  love,  of  one  accord,  of  one 
mind." 


And  don't  you  know,  brethren,  that  this  was  a  large 
part  of  the  charm  and  the  power  of  JESUS  CHRIST 
Himself?  No  one  needed  to  say  to  HIM,  "If  your  soul 
were  In  my  soul's  stead!"  He  was  there  already.  He 
"knew  what  was  In  man."  How  adroitly  and  accurately 
He  read  men's  minds!  How  thoughtfully  and  under- 
standingly  and  charitably  He  spelled  out  the  secrets  of 
their  hearts!  In  so  much,  you  remember,  that  the  Samari- 
tan woman,  who  so  direly  needed  His  pity  and  His  grace, 
hailed  her  fellow-town's-folk  almost  gladly  with,  "Come, 
see  a  man,  which  told  me  all  things  that  ever  I  did." 

And  the  Best  Friend  of  human  kind,  that  most  search- 
ing— but  most  gentle — Comrade  of  the  human  heart,  is 
"the  same  yesterday,  and  today,  and  for  ever."  So  that 
you  and  I — each  one  of  us — can  say  to  HIM,  with  all 
confidence,  "Thou  understandest  my  thought  afar  off;" 
and  can  say  to  HIM,  with  whatever  penitence — yet  with 
glad  assurance  (let  us  hope),  "Lord,  Thou  knowest  all 
things :    Thou  knowest  that  I  love  Thee." 


Ill 

THE  EVERLASTING  NOW 

''Behold,  now  is  the  accepted  time;  behold,  now  is  the  day 
of  salvation/' — II  Corinthians  VI,  2. 

'T'  HE  Apostle  is  trying  to  impress  upon  the  minds  of  his 
readers  the  importance,  the  dignity,  the  sanctity  of 
the  Gospel  Ministry:  "the  ministry  of  reconciliation,"  he 
calls  it.  He  wishes  them  to  understand,  in  some  measure, 
the  wonderfulness  and  the  winsomeness  of  the  grace  of 
God.  Nay  more,  as  they  are  freely  'receiving'  the  gift  of 
God's  grace,  by  all  means  let  them  not  receive  it  "in 
vain:"  let  them  take  hold  of  it  with  both  hands,  and  make 
it  count  in  their  lives.  There  is  nothing  to  be  gained 
by  waiting.  The  Father  was  never  more  willing,  and 
they  were  never  more  needy  nor  more  ready,  than  right 
now.  There  can  be  no  more  favorable  opportunity  than 
the  present.  There  is  no  more  acceptable  "time" — no 
time  more  likely  to  be  the  time  than  today.  And  so,  at 
this  point,  the  Apostle  throws  in  a  parenthesis,  quoting 
from  the  prophet  Isaiah,  "For  He  saith,  I  have  heard 
thee  in  a  time  accepted,  and  in  the  day  of  salvation  have 
I  succoured  thee:  behold.  Now  is  the  accepted  time;  be- 
hold. Now  is  the  day  of  salvation." 

He  throws  in  that  parenthesis.  Yes,  only  a  parenthesis : 
but,  like  many  another  Scriptural  parenthesis,  it  has  point 
and  pith  and  power.  And  the  point  and  pith  and  power 
of  it  are  focussed  for  us  in  the  single  word  "NOW," — 
"Now  is  the  accepted  time;     .     .     .     Now  is  the  day  of 

31 


32  The  Imperishable  Heart 

salvation." 

"There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men 
Which  taken  at  the  flood,  leads  on  to  fortune; 
Omitted,  all  the  voyage  of  their  life 
Is  bound  in  shallows  and  in  miseries." 

The  Golden  Age  has  been  put  by  some  in  the  far  past; 
by  others  in  the  far  future.  Well,  if  we  are  to  think  of 
the  Golden  Age  as  a  time  of  undisturbed  ease  and  un- 
broken plenty  and  assured  and  universal  peace,  then — ob- 
viously— it  is  either  past  or  to  come.  But,  if  we  will 
think  and  speak  of  the  Golden  Age  in  terms  of  Oppor- 
tunity, then  we  may  know  for  sure  that  it  is  always  with 
us — the  "Everlasting  Now." 

Of  course,  my  friends,  you  will  understand  that,  in  the 
passage  before  us,  St.  Paul  does  not  merely  mean  that  the 
present  life  is  the  season  of  grace,  and  that  there  will  be 
no  farther  opportunity — no  'other  chance' — in  the  life  to 
come.  That  may  or  may  not  be :  we  cannot  tell.  But  St. 
Paul  here  is  not  speaking  theologically.  He  is  speaking 
humanly  and  practically:  and  he  says,  in  effect.  The  time 
to  take  hold  of  the  grace  of  God  and  make  it  count  in  our 
lives — the  time  to  follow  our  best  impulses  and  to  do  our 
best  work — is  always  right  NOW.  No  use  proposing, 
like  Felix,  to  wait  for  "a  convenient  season."  The  con- 
venient season  is  already  here. 

To  be  sure,  we  cannot  do  everything  at  once ;  and  there 
are  certain  developments  of  our  life-plans  and  life-tasks 
that  take  time  and  that  we  should  be  unwise  to  hurry. 
And  so  we  have  the  word  of  the  Hebrew  prophet,  "For 


The  Everlasting  Now  33 

the  vision  is  yet  for  an  appointed  time,  but  at  the  end  it 
shall  speak,  and  not  lie;  though  it  tarry,  wait  for  it:" 
and  this  other  word  of  another  Hebrew  prophet,  "He  that 
believeth  shall  not  make  haste."  Yes,  it  is  a  great  thing  to 
learn  the  art  of  'waiting.'  Jesus  Himself  said  on  several 
occasions,  **My  time  is  not  yet  come;"  meaning  that  the 
time  of  the  crisis — the  day  of  the  Cross — was  yet  ahead  of 
Him.  And  so,  brethren,  in  trying  to  get  at  the  heart  of 
our  little  text  this  morning,  we  must  not  lose  our  sense  of 
proportion,  nor  fail  to  keep  the  balance. 

I 
But  after  all  has  been  said  about  possible  misinterpre- 
tations of  the  passage  before  us,  we  know  perfectly  well 
what  it  means — in  all  the  incisiveness  of  it  and  in  all  the 
inclusiveness  of  it.     "NOW  is  the  accepted  time;     .     . 

.  NOW  is  the  day  of  salvation."  It  applies  to  each 
and  every  day  of  our  lives,  and  to  every  hour  of  every 
day:  that  the  time  to  grasp  and  use  God's  grace,  the  time 
to  be  true  to  the  best  that  we  know,  the  time  to  do  our  best 
in  our  best  way,  the  time  to  'save'  ourselves  from  all  that 
is  unworthy  of  us,  is  precisely  the  time  at  which  we  hap- 
pen to  be, — Today  and  not  Tomorrow. 

The  thing  is  so  obvious,  my  friends :  and  yet  we  blunder 
along  in  a  series  of  hopeless  procrastinations.  We  arc  go- 
ing to  "get  around"  to  this  and  that  some  day:  which 
means,  in  ever  so  many  cases,  that  we  never  get  around  to 
it.  O,  how  many  letters  we  have  failed  to  answer,  how 
many  helpful  words  we  have  failed  to  speak,  how  many 
visits  of  encouragement  we  have  failed  to  make,  how  many 
'spoiled  chances'  are  in  our  records — because  we  put  off 
until  it  was  too  late!     "Do  it  now"  k  the  ?ulc  for  all 


34  The  Imperishable  Heart 

such  opportunities.  "The  days,"  says  Emerson,  "are  ever 
divine  .  .  .  They  are  of  the  least  pretension,  and  of 
the  greatest  capacity,  of  anything  that  exists.  They  come 
and  go  like  muffled  and  veiled  figures,  sent  from  a  distant 
friendly  party;  but  they  say  nothing;  and  if  wt  do  not 
use  the  gifts  they  bring,  they  carry  them  as  silently  away," 

To  my  young  friends  especially — those  of  them  (I 
mean)  who  have  some  spark  of  ambition — (to  my  young 
friends  especially)  I  should  like  to  say,  with  the  Apostle, 
"NOW  is  the  accepted  time,"  You  wish  to  excel,  I  as- 
sume, in  some  direction.  You  wish  to  become  proficient, 
as  time  goes  on,  in  this  or  that.  And,  in  order  to  excel- 
lence— in  order  to  proficiency,  there  is  so  much  work  to 
be  done:  three  or  four  big  books  to  be  mastered,  or  thirty 
or  forty  points  of  detail  to  become  familiar  with,  or  the 
like.  But,  you  are  saying  to  yourself,  there  is  plenty  of 
time:  youth  comes  but  once:  some  day  I'll  get  down  to 
hard  work.  No,  my  young  friend,  the  chances  are  you 
will  never  get  down  to  hard  work  if  you  don't  DO  IT 
NOW. 

Some  of  the  tasks  in  front  of  you  may  look  enormous, 
and  may  have  the  reputation  of  being  exceedingly  heavy 
and  irksome.  Well,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  to  put  of¥ 
tackling  them  will  not  make  them  any  easier.  And, 
moreover,  it  is  wonderful  how,  once  you  get  clearly  under 
way  with  a  bit  of  work,  many  of  the  apprehended  diffi- 
culties vanish  and  much  of  what  you  expected  would  be 
irksomeness  becomes  positively  exhilaration. 

Let  me  give  you  a  little  bit  of  my  own  experience  (and 
I  know  very  well  that  many  a  preacher  could  tell  you  the 
same  sort  of  thing) .     When  I  began  my  ministry,  over  in 


The  Everlasting  Now  35 

the  Old  Country,  I  used  to  put  off  my  sermon-writing  till 
dangerously  near  the  end  of  the  week:  partly  out  of  a 
kind  of  fear,  and  partly  because  I  seemed  to  assume  that  I 
must  wait  for  the  inspiration  to  take  place.  The  conse- 
quence was,  a  terrible  congestion  of  work  in  the  last  forty- 
eight  hours  of  the  week,  and  not  getting  to  bed  till  three 
or  four  o'clock  on  Sunday  morning.  By  and  by  I  made 
up  my  mind  that  that  would  not  do :  and  for  several  years 
past  I  have  made  it  a  point  to  start  the  sermon-writing 
each  week  on  Wednesday  morning  at  latest,  and — if  prac- 
ticable— on  Tuesday  morning.  Inspiration  or  no  inspira- 
tion, message  or  no  message,  I  sit  down  and  make  a  start ; 
and  then  the  way  opens  up  marvellously.  The  conse- 
quence has  been  that,  instead  of  that  part  of  my  work  as 
a  minister  being — as  it  used  to  be — a  burden  and  a  bore, 
it  is  now  (with  all  its  exactions  and  its  strain)  the  joy 
of  my  life.  And  however  poor  and  partial  my  attempts  to 
preach  the  Everlasting  Gospel  may  be,  I  feel,  at  least,  that 
from  week  to  week  I  am  being  fair  to  myself  and  fair  to 
you  and  fair  to  the  Master  by  'taking  occasion  by  the 
hand'  and  not  procrastinating  till  the  eleventh  hour.  You 
may  take  that  little  frank  piece  of  autobiography  for  what 
you  think  it  is  worth.  Anyhow,  when  I  say  to  you  young 
people,  "Do  it  now,"  I  speak  that  I  do  know. 

And  then,  brethren,  when  it  comes  to  the  higher 
reaches  of  life — to  our  growth  in  grace — to  our  distinc- 
tively spiritual  achievements,  unquestionably  the  time  is 
NOW.  No  soul  of  man — good,  bad,  or  indifferent — is 
standing  still.  We  are  all  moving, — in  some  direction  or 
other:  up  or  down.  Each  new  day,  therefore,  takes  us  a 
a  little  farther  on  our  way — up  or  down.     .     .     .     Don't 


36  The  Imperishable  Heart 

you  see,  then,  that  if  a  man  happens  to  be  going  down,  no 
matter  by  what  apparently  slow  degrees,  the  time  for  him 
to  turn  about  and  get  on  to  the  up-grade  is  Today,  not 
Tomorrow.  It  will  be  more  difficult — tomorrow.  There 
will  be  more  steps  to  retrieve — tomorrow.  And  then, 
there  is  always  the  chance  that  Tomorrow  will  be  too 
late.  "That  thou  doest,  do  quickly."  .  .  .  You  all 
remember  how  Felix  said  to  Paul,  as  Paul  "reasoned" 
with  him  "of  righteousness,  temperance,  and  judgment  to 
come,"  "Go  thy  way  for  this  time;  when  I  have  a  con- 
venient season,  I  will  call  for  thee."  Well,  so  far  as  we 
know  the  "convenient  season"  never  came.  Felix  let  the 
opportunity  of  his  life  go  by  for  ever. 

O  yes,  for  getting  into  harmony  with  the  will  of  God — 
for  getting  into  line  with  Christ — for  making  the  most  of 
yourself,  "NOW  is  the  accepted  time;  .  .  .  NOW 
\s  the  day  of  salvation."     .     .     . 

But  there  are  two  lines  of  resistance  along  which  wc 
are  mostly  all  moving.  There  are  two  considerations — or 
sets  of  circumstances — which  are  apt  to  persuade  us  away 
from  holding  and  living-by  the  truth  of  our  text.  I  mean 
''to  put  them  briefly)  the  Trivialities  of  life  and  the 
Trials  of  life. 

There  are  the  Trivialities  of  life.  I  mean  that  some 
individuals  are  perpetually  imagining — if  not  hinting — 
that,  were  their  circumstances  more  congenial,  were  their 
surroundings  more  inspiring,  were  their  opportunities  more 
conspicuous,  they  could  do  immensely  better  than  they  are 
doing  at  present  with  their  small  and  trifling  tasks.  Well, 
brethren,    there    are,    I    believe,    some   people   who    are 


The  Everlasting  Now  37 

not  in  their  right  places  in  this  world,  some  people 
who  would  certainly  do  better  than  they  are  doing  in  more 
congenial  and  more  encouraging  situations.  But,  I  tell 
you,  in  the  vast  majority  of  cases  it  is  precisely  where  we 
are — Here  and  Now — that  we  mortals  must  "win  our  vic- 
tories or  suffer  our  defeats."  You  remember  how  Jesus 
said,  "He  that  is  faithful  in  that  which  is  least  is  faithful 
also  in  much:  and  he  that  is  unjust  in  the  least  is  unjust 
also  in  much."  It  has  been  said  of  Charles  Kingsley  (one 
of  the  healthiest  spirits  who  ever  lived),  that  "In  all  things 
.  .  .  he  would  do  the  duty  that  lay  nearest  him, 
believing  that  God  had  put  it  nearest  him."  Ay,  there  is 
the  secret  of  success :  seeing  the  hand  of  God  in  your  life, 
taking  your  life-tasks  as  the  appointment  of  the  Father, — 
no  matter  how  inconspicuous  and  apparently  unimportant 
your  place  may  be.  Lincoln  rose  to  fame  and  to  large  use- 
fulness, because  he  was  wise  enough  and  humble-minded 
enough  not  to  "kick"  at  having  to  be  brought  up  in  a 
log-cabin,  and  because  he  made  the  shanty  a  study  and  read 
the  world's  best  books  there.  .  .  .  O,  my  friends,  I 
know  well  enough  how  depressing  and  de-vitalizing  some 
folks'  circumstances  are.  Don't  think  me  callous  or 
inconsiderate  or  unsympathetic:  I  trust  I  am  not  that.  But 
I  know  what  I  am  talking  about :  and,  I  say,  the  question 
is  just  this,  if  it  is  inevitable  that  you  cannot  at  present 
alter  your  circumstances,  are  you  going  to  allow  the  uncon- 
geniality  and  the  inconspicuousness  of  your  circumstances 
to  take  the  heart  out  of  you  altogether  and  to  make  a 
grumbler  and  a  failure  of  you,  or  are  you  saying  to  your- 
self, 'NOW  is  the  accepted  time :  NOW  is  the  day  of  my 
salvation :  I  will  win  out  in  spite  of  my  circumstances ;  I  am 


38  The  Imperishable  Heart 

going  to  be  their  master,  not  they  mine'  ?  .  .  .  I  came 
across  this  the  other  day  (it  is  beautifully  wise),  "Never 
fancy  you  could  be  something  if  only  you  had  a  different 
lot  and  sphere  assigned  to  you.  The  very  things  that 
you  most  deprecate,  as  fatal  limitations  or  obstructions,  are 
probably  w^hat  you  most  need.  What  you  call  hindrances, 
obstacles,  discouragements,  are  probably  God's  opportuni- 
ties." 

Then,  besides  the  Trivialities  of  life,  there  are  the  Trials 
of  life  blinding  us  frequently  to  the  supreme  importance  of 
TODAY.  Especially,  I  should  be  inclined  to  say,  the 
little,  oft-repeated  vexations  of  our  common  days.  For 
we  have  no  difficulty  in  seeing  and  understanding  that  the 
days  of  our  big  trials  are  important  days:  yes,  'days  of  sal- 
vation.' But  what  about  the  little  bafflings  and  worries? 
You  know,  the  most  excruciating  discomfort  that  you  could 
experience  would  be  to  be  made  fast  in  a  particular  place 
and  to  have  water  made  to  drop,  drop,  drop  on  the  same 
spot  of  your  naked  body  for  hours  and  hours  together  In 
fact,  that  has  been  a  form  of  torture  used  by  those  who 
have  been  ingenious  in  devising  such  things.  What,  then, 
about  the  little  trials  that  drop,  drop,  drop  on  the  same  spot 
of  your  soul  every  day? —  Your  little  physical  disabil- 
ity, it  may  be, — so  that  you  are  never  in  perfect  health 
and  perfect  spirits:  or  the  daily  nag-nag-nagging  in  your 
home,  it  may  be:  or  your  having  to  work  with  some  one 
who  is  perpetually  aggravating  you  by  his  want  of  brains 
or  want  of  heart  ?  And  so  forth  and  so  on.  'Why !' — you 
say  to  yourself — 'I  shall  never  make  anything  of  my  life, 
I  shall  never  realize  myself,  I  shall  never  know  the  "sal- 
vation" of  acquiring  the  mind  of  Christ, — so  long  as  things 


The  Everlasting  Now  39 

are  as  they  are  with  me:  I  must  be  out  of  all  this  first.' 
But,  no,  my  friend:  ten  chances  to  one  never  will  you 
realize  yourself — never  will  you  come  to  the  mind  of 
Christ — if  you  do  not  at  least  begin  to  try  right  NOW, 
right  in  the  thick  of  those  daily  bafflings  and  worries.     . 

.  .  Besides,  as  a  matter  of  plain  common  sense,  which 
is  better: — to  play  the  man  amid  life's  irritations  and  in- 
hospitalities,  or  to  give  in  and  confess  oneself  beaten  ? 

Mark  you  this,  too,  brethren :  the  heroism  of  the  incon- 
spicuous places  must  often  be,  in  God's  sight,  as  magnifi- 
cent and  as  praiseworthy  as  the  heroism  of  the  conspicu- 
ous places.  There  are  scores  of  young  men  these  days — 
the  flower  of  their  respective  countries — winning  theii 
laurels  on  the  battlefields  of  Europe.  But  they  are  out 
with  the  big  battalions,  in  a  big  way,  and  in  a  big  cause. 
Yes,  but  what  about  the  mothers  and  sisters  and  sweet- 
hearts at  home,  who  have  bade  these  young  men  goodbye 
with  smiles  of  encouragement  which  likely  cost  them  days 
and  nights  of  tears,  who  are  probably  living  now — many 
of  them — on  scant  fare,  and  who  never  know  but  what  the 
next  news  will  be  that  some  of  their  loved  ones  have  been 
killed  in  battle  and  their  corpses  pushed  into  the  cold 
trenches?  Truly,  as  the  Book  says,  "Kings  of  armies  did 
flee  apace:  and  she  that  tarried  at  home  divided  the  spoil." 
Yes,  indeed,  there  is  a  'share  of  the  spoil'  for  you — a  share 
of  the  honor — a  share  of  Humanity's  approval  and  of  God's 
approval — for  you,  right  where  you  are,  if  you  are  hang- 
ing-in  to  your  appointed  tasks,  and  bearing  bravely  "the 
petty  round  of  irritating  concerns  and  duties." 

And  so,  for  each  and  all  of  us  "NOW  is  the  accepted 
time;     .     .     .     NOW  is  the  day  of  salvation." 


40  The  Imperishable  Heart 

"We  need  not  bid,  for  cloister'd  cell, 
Our  neighbor  and  our  work  farewell, 
Nor  strive  to  wind  ourselves  too  high 
For  sinful  man  beneath  the  sky : 

The  trivial  round,  the  common  task. 
Would  furnish  all  we  ought  to  ask, — 
Room  to  deny  ourselves;   a  road 
To  bring  us  daily  nearer  God. 

Seek  we  no  more ;  content  with  these, 
Let  present  Rapture,  Comfort,  Ease, 
As  Heaven  shall  bid  them,  come  and  go : — 
The  secret  this  of  Rest  below."     .     .     . 

And  then,  my  friends,  one  word  more.  "NOW  is  the 
axrcepted  time"  for  being  kind  and  helpful  to  one  another: 
not  after  death  has  broken  our  fellowship.  A  friend  of 
mine  in  the  Old  Country  (a  School  Principal)  once  told 
me  that  an  acquaintance  of  his,  who  was  subject  to  great 
fits  of  depression,  called  upon  him  one  evening  to  'Visit" 
with  him.  My  friend  happened  to  be  unusually  busy  that 
evening  with  some  school  reports,  and  he  dismissed  his 
acquaintance  rather  more  abruptly  than  was  his  wont. 
Next  morning  he  heard,  to  his  utter  dismay  and  confusion, 
that  the  fellow  had  made  away  with  himself  shortly  after 
leaving  his  rooms.  It  was  too  late,  then,  to  have  the 
"visit"  which  might  have  steadied  and  cheered  the  man  of 
moods. 

And  I  remember  how  one  of  our  theological  professors 
used  to  tell  us  that  at  one  time,  when  he  had  been  a  Sun- 


The  Everlasting  Now  4I 

day  School  teacher,  one  of  his  pupils  was  absent  for  several 
Sundays  in  succession.  Time  and  again  it  occurred  to  him 
that  he  ought  to  call  and  ask  for  the  boy :  but  he  didn't  do 
it, — until,  one  day,  he  heard  that  the  boy  was  dead.  I 
think  I  hear  that  able  man  yet  telling  us,  in  his  usual 
calm  and  deliberate  and  pointed  way,  how  cut  and  how 
utterly  humiliated  he  was  by  that  happening.  He  had 
waited  too  long.  He  had  lost  a  great  opportunity.  He 
had  omitted  to  DO  IT  NOW. 

O,  my  friends,  let  us  not  wait  till  people  are  in  their 
graves — to  speak  kindly  of  them  and  to  wish  them  well. 
Better  than  flowers  on  their  caskets  when  they 
have  passed  on  into  the  night  will  be  words  of  encourage- 
ment and  good  cheer  while  they  are  yet  bearing  the  bur- 
den and  heat  of  the  day.  Better — far  better — than  a  host 
of  friends  to  accompany  their  corpses  to  the  cemetery  will 
be  a  host  of  friends  to  support  them  and  to  give  them  heart 
and  hope  along  the  highway  of  life. 

"NOW  is  the  accepted  time;  .  .  .  NOW  is 
the  day  of  salvation."  Yes,  surely  there  is  never  a  day 
— never  an  hour — when  it  is  not  precisely  and  expressly 
the  very  time  to  be  kind  and  encouraging  and  cheering  and 
helpful.  "I  shall  pass  through  this  world  but  once.  Any 
good  therefore  that  I  can  do,  or  any  kindness  that  I  can 
show  to  any  human  being,  let  me  do  it  now.  Let  me  not 
defer  or  neglect  it,  for  I  shall  not  pass  this  way  again." 
"If  you  have  gracious  words  to  say, 
Oh,  give  them  to  our  hearts  today." 


IV 

THE  ONE  MASTER 
"One  is  your  master,  even  Christ,** — Matthew  XXIII, 

lO. 

nP  HE  pith  and  point  of  our  Lord's  well-known  saying 
that  **no  man  can  serve  two  masters"  come  from  the 
fact  that  every  man  must  serve  one  master.  For,  if  it  be 
true  that  man  is  born  to  rule, — born  with  the  power  of 
initiative,  and  with  the  faculty  of  taking  command,  and 
with  the  ability  to  achieve  and  to  excel ;  it  is  also  true  that 
man  is  born  to  serve, — that,  in  order  to  the  largest  and 
richest  kind  of  life,  he  needs  to  come  under  the  spell  and 
power  of  some  higher  command,  or  of  some  pursuit  or  per- 
sonality. Indeed  it  has  been  said  that  no  man  is  fit  to  com- 
mand who  has  not  first  learned  to  obey,  that  no  man  is  fit 
to  rule  who  has  not  first  learned  to  serve.  "He  that  loseth 
his  life  .  .  .  shall  find  it."  He  that  loses  himself — 
gives  himself  unreservedly — to  the  highest  ideals  and  the 
purest  purposes  'finds  himself,'  realizes  himself,  comes  to 
his  own. 

And  so  the  Christ  says,  further,  with  great  plainness, 
"One  is  your  Master — even  CHRIST."  So  that,  if  you 
can  say,  "My  heart's  right  there;  my  life  is  centered  there; 
my  affections  and  plans  are  all  focussed  there — in  Christ:" 
if  you  can  say  these  things,  your  life  is  no  longer  a  con- 
glomeration of  unrelated  fragments,  but  a  unity. 

And  then,  as  the  Apostle  says,  'whether  you  eat,  or 
drink,  or  whatsoever  you  do,  you  will  do  all  to  the  glory  of 

42 


The  One  Master  43 

God'  Or,  as  he  puts  it  elsewhere,  "Whatsoever  ye  do 
in  word  or  deed,  do  all  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus, 
giving  thanks  to     .     .     .     the  Father  by  Him." 

Now  we  are  just  about  thoroughly  convinced,  these 
days,  that  the  World  is  a  Unity.  By  the  harsh  and  unhing- 
ing circumstances  of  the  past  few  months  we  have  learned 
that  "whether  one  member  suffer,  all  the  members  suffer 
with  it." 

Even  so,  it  is  part  of  our  modern  philosophy  of  life — 
and  a  wholesome  part  of  it — that  Life  is  a  Unity ;  that  a 
compartmental  view  of  life  is  misleading,  and,  in  fact, 
wrong  and  irreligious.  Life,  in  the  whole  length  and 
breadth  and  depth  and  height  of  it,  belongs  to  God.  And 
so,  once  we  have  made  up  our  minds  which  are  the  "best 
gifts"  to  be  'coveted  earnestly,'  we  must  "ask  the  way"  to 
the  fulfilment  of  our  ambitions  "with  our  faces  thither- 
ward," and  make  every  task  and  every  experience  and  every 
circumstance  bend  to  that  search  of  the  soul.  To  try 
to  live  a  double  life  spells  failure:  for  "no  man  can  serve 
two  masters."  We  must  concentrate :  "Unite  my  heart." 
— "This  one  thing  I  do" 

Nor  is  this  philosophy  of  life — this  way  of  taking  life — 
to  be  reckoned  vague  at  all.  It  is  all  focussed  and  centred 
in  CHRIST.  It  is  made  plain  to  us,  and  made  con- 
tagious and  potent  to  us,  in  a  living  Personality.  "For 
one  is  your  master,  even  Christ." 

Yes  I  say,  mark  you,  in  a  living  Personality.  For,  hold 
what  view  you  like  of  the  Resurrection  of  Jesus  and  take 
what  view  you  like  of  human  immortality,  there  is  nothing 
surer  than  that  the  Christ  lives  today — in  all  the  implica- 


44  The  Imperishable  Heart 

tions  and  inspirations  of  His  teaching,  and  in  the  myriad 
pleadings  of  His  Spirit,  and  in  the  various  indisputable 
conquests  of  His  love — (there  is  nothing  surer  than  that 
the  Christ  lives  today)  in  this  world  of  men  and  w^omen: 
if  not  as  vividly,  yet  as  vivifyingly,  as  nineteen  centuries 
ago  in  Palestine.  Why,  brethren,  unless  the  New  Testa- 
ment is  just  a  collection  of  pure  gibberish,  it  is  clear  that 
no  one  (not  even  any  of  the  twelve)  companioned  with  the 
Christ  more  intimately  and  more  magnetically  than  did  the 
Apostle  Paul ;  albeit  he  had  never  seen  the  Christ  with  the 
eye  of  his  flesh — except  perhaps  in  some  mysterious  fashion 
on  the  day  of  his  conversion,  and  for  but  the  flash  of  a 
moment.  Even  so  today,  there  are  hundreds  of  men  and 
women  w^ho  are  companioning  spiritually  with  the  Christ 
every  day  of  their  lives,  and  who  have  brought  their  every 
thought  and  their  every  ambition  and  their  every  day's 
work  into  captivity  to  the  obedience  of  Christ.  'One  is 
their  Master,  even  Christ:'  and  their  livfs  are — each  one 
— a  unity,  not  divided  up  into  compartments  from  some  of 
which  the  companioning  Christ  is  excluded  and  into  some 
of  which  only  He  is  admitted. 

The  truth  is,  brethren,  this  is  just  what  Religion  means, 
in  the  first  instance.  The  man  who  "gets  religion"  (I 
don't  particularly  like  that  phrase;  but  I  use  it  because 
you  know  what  it  usually  indicates) — the  man  who  gets 
religion  has  grasped  the  truth  of  the  Oneness  of  Life,  the 
Unity  of  Life, — that  it  is  all  under  the  Higher  Command, 
— that  we  cannot  live  fragmentarily  and  compartmentally, 
but  must  serve  the  One  Master  all  the  time  and  in  all 
the  tasks  we  put  our  hands  to  and  in  all  the  experiences 


The  One  Master  45 

we  pass  through. 

Dr.  Johnson  (of  Dictionary  fame)  used  to  say  that  "the 
world  is  full  of  unfortunates  who  have  but  one  ailment — 
indecision."  Well,  Religion  is  just,  in  the  first  instance, 
decision :  making  up  one's  mind  to  go  in  the  right  direction 
all  the  time.     And  then,  as  Browning  says, 

''Who  keeps  one  end  in  view  makes  all  things  serve." 

For  instance,  under  the  sole  Mastery  of  CHRIST  we 
shall  cease  to  make  distinctions  between  the  great  and  the 
small.     For, 

"All  service  ranks  the  same  with  God: 

.     .     .     there  is  no  last  nor  first. 

Say  not  'a  small  event  1'  Why  'small  ?'  " 
Or,  as  the  Master  Himself  put  it,  "Whosoever  shall  give 
to  .  .  .  one  of  these  little  ones  a  cup  of  cold  water 
only  in  the  name  of  a  disciple,  verily  I  say  unto  you,  he 
shall  in  no  wise  lose  his  reward."  O  yes,  just  a  passing 
call,  or  a  brief  letter,  or  some  apparently  trivial  house- 
hold duty  done  well  and  done  cheerfully,  may  be  "a  sac- 
rifice acceptable,  well-pleasing  to  God."  "Trifles  make 
perfection,"  said  Michael  Angelo,  when  twitted  with 
spending  too  much  time  on  the  details  of  his  sculpturing, 
"(Trifles  make  perfection)  but  perfection  is  no  trifle." 
And,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  the  difference  between  first- 
rate  work  of  any  kind  and  what  is  not  first-rate  is  that  in 
the  former  the  details  have  got  the  best  possible  attention, 
in  the  latter  they  have  not.  Be  sure  of  this,  my  friends: 
that  there  is  nothing  (I  mean,  nothing  decently  and  hon- 
orably human) — there  is  nothing  which  may  not  be  done 
'for  Christ's  sake,'  nothing  which  may  not  be  "touched  to 
immortality." 


46  The  Imperishable  Heart 

And  then,  under  the  sole  Mastery  of  CHRIST  we  shall 
cease  to  distinguish  too  sharply  between  sacred  and  secu- 
lar. No  one  can  read  the  life  of  Christ  without  being 
convinced  that  He  regarded  everything  (except,  of  course, 
what  was  positively  wrong)  as  sacred:  motherhood  and 
childhood,  and  human  industry  and  happy  human  inter- 
course, and  the  clouds  and  the  winds  and  the  flowers,  and 
God's  winged  songsters  and  God's  fresh  air.  Who  are  we, 
then,  that  we  should  say  only  such-and-such  appointed  re- 
ligious exercises  or  only  such-and-such  specially  conse- 
crated places  are  sacred, — all  others  secular  ?  Or,  who  are 
we,  that  we  should  say,  'Business  is  business,  and  religion 
has  nothing  to  do  with  it;'  or,  'Religion  is  religion,  and 
"The  Lord  will  provide"  whether  we  apply  business  meth- 
ods to  Church  affairs  or  not?'  Why,  brethren,  that  com- 
partmental  view  of  life  is  one  of  the  most  mischievous 
things  imaginable,  and  cuts  at  the  very  sinews  of  genuine 
godliness.  ...  Of  course  there  is  such  a  thing  as 
incongruity.  No  man  with  a  sense  of  the  fitness  of  things 
would  think  of  discussing  a  business  deal  during  the  time 
of  a  prayer  in  the  Sanctuary.  That  would  be  highly  in- 
congruous. But  on  the  other  hand,  a  man  may  serve 
God  as  effectively  through  a  series  of  honorable  business 
deals  as  by  scrupulously  regular  attendance  at  Church  or- 
dinances. It  is  Charles  Lamb  who  writes,  in  one  of  his 
famous  essays,  "I  own  that  I  am  disposed  to  say  grace  upon 
twenty  other  occasions  in  the  course  of  the  day  besides  my 
dinner.  I  want  a  form  (of  grace)  for  setting  out  upon  a 
pleasant  walk,  for  a  moonlight  ramble,  for  a  friendly  meet- 
ing, or  a  solved  problem.  Why  have  we  none  for  books, 
those  spiritual  repasts — a  grace  before  Milton — a  grace 


The  One  Master  47 

before  Shakespeare     ...      ?"     .     .     .     and  so  on  in 

the  same  strain.  Wholesome  teaching,  in  good  sooth.  For, 
those  who  have  the  CHRIST  for  their  Master  in  every 
region  of  life — those  who  are  minded  to  ''do  all  to  the 
glory  of  God" — will  see  a  sanctity 

"in  the  stars  above, 

"The  clods  below,  the  flesh  without,  the  mind 

"Within,  the  bread,  the  tear,  the  smile." 

And  they  will  find  it  difficult  to  allow  any  questionable 

custom  in  their  businesses,  or  any  questionable  pleasures  in 

their  lives. 

And  so  I  would  say,  further,  that  the  undisputed  and 
accepted  Mastery  of  the  CHRIST  will  enable  us  to  see 
things  in  their  proper  proportion,  and  to  have  them  rightly 
correlated  in  our  lives. 

Worship  and  Work,  for  instance.  How  often  we  "halt 
between  two  opinions" — and  get  nothing  substantial  done 
— because  we  do  not  apprehend  the  Unity  of  the  Christ- 
touched  life!  We  are  not  sure,  on  the  one  hand,  just  how 
much  thought  and  time  we  should  give  to  spiritual  self- 
culture;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  just  how  much  thought 
and  time  we  should  give  to  what  is  called  nowadays  social 
service.  Well,  the  thing  is  solved  in  the  life  of  Jesus.  He 
certainly  did  not  neglect  Prayer:  time  and  again  we  read 
of  His  retiring  to  'refresh  His  spirit'  and  get  nearer  God 
in  prayer.  But  we  read  also  of  His  'going  about  doing 
good' — of  His  'going  about  all  the  cities  and  villages, 
teaching  and  preaching  .  .  .  and  healing  .  .  .  ' 
And     these,    the    prayer    life    and    the    practical    life 


48  The  Imperishable  Heart 

were  not  two  things  with  Him, — apart  and  unre- 
lated: they  were  one, — the  one  God-filled  and  God- 
revealing  and  God-ward  Life.  Even  so,  my  friends, 
when,  under  the  spell  of  the  Mastery  of  Christ,  we  'see 
life  steadily,  and  see  it  whole,'  we  should  have  no  difficulty 
in  preserving  the  balance  between  worship  and  work,  be- 
tween aspiration  and  activity,  between  the  pursuit  of  per- 
sonal sanctity  and  the  ambition  to  be  useful.  The  thing 
is  to  get  up  high  enough,  like  Jesus  Himself, — where  we 
can  see  the  one-ness  of  these  two  aspects  of  the  Christian 
life.  Then  we  shall  escape  many  a  perplexity  and  solve 
many  a  problem,  just  as  (to  borrow  an  illustration  of  Phil- 
lips Brooks's)  "the  eagle  flying  through  the  sky  is  not  wor- 
ried how  to  cross  the  rivers." 

And  so,  too,  my  friends,  we  shall  see — from  that  lofty 
atmosphere — from  the  view  point  of  the  Christ — (we 
shall  see)  that  what  we  are  inclined  to  call  obstructions 
and  hindrances  and  annoyances  are  often  not  so,  but  are  part 
of  the  plan — may  be,  indeed,  "direct  means"  of  both  per- 
sonal spiritual  culture  and  sacrificial-service-of-our-breth- 
ren-of-mankind.  It  was  somewhat  against  the  grain,  with 
Jesus  and  His  disciples,  that  they  "must  needs  go  through 
Samaria"  ('for  the  Jews  had  no  dealings  with  the  Sa- 
maritans') on  their  way  North  from  Judea  to  Galilee. 
Yes,  but  that  journey  "through  Samaria"  was  a  memorable 
one:  it  gave  us  some  of  the  most  beautiful  and  far-reach- 
ing sayings  of  Jesus,  and  a  whole  community  was  con- 
verted. Just  let  me  quote  to  you  the  sentence  I  quoted 
to  you  the  other  Sunday  evening  and  which  I  have  type- 
written and  hung  up  in  my  Study,  "What  you  call  hin- 
drances, obstacles,  disappointments  are  probably  GOD'S 


The  One  Master  49 

OPPORTUNITIES."  ...  I  do  not  forget,  to  be 
sure,  that  "much  of  the  best  piety  of  the  world  is  ripened, 
not  under  sorrow,  but  under  joy."  Yes,  there  are,  as  the 
Book  of  Ecclesiastes  says,  both  "a  time  to  weep,  and  a 
time  to  laugh."  But  that  is  just  what  I  want  to  be  at: 
that  both  sorrow  and  joy — both  joy  and  sorrow — go  to 
make  up  the  Unity  of  the  ideal  life;  that  we  may  pass 
through  them  both  "to  the  glory  of  God ;"  that  we  should 
neither  suspect  our  joys  nor  strangle  our  sorrows,  but  let 
both  'have  their  perfect  work'  with  us.     .     .     . 

Now,  brethren,  there  is  scarcely  any  truth — be  it  ever 
so  wholesome  and  ever  so  sublime — which  has  not  been 
exaggerated  and  distorted.  And  so  it  has  been  with  the 
truth  I  am  trying  to  impress  upon  you  today. 

Life  should  be  a  Unity.  Yes.  And  so,  it  has  been  said, 
we  may  see  God  in  the  stars  as  clearly  as  in  the  saints; 
and  we  may  worship  God  in  the  fields  and  on  the  hill- 
slopes  and  by  our  hearth-stones,  as  sincerely  and  success- 
fully as  we  can  in  any  appointed  Sanctuary  'with  a  multi- 
tude that  keep  holy  day;'  and  we  may  be  just  as  sincere 
Christians  at  a  game  of  pool  as  in  a  Mission  Study  Class ; 
and  so  on.  Indeed,  it  has  been  put — rather  extremely — in 
this  way, — that  God  is  in  a  crust  as  surely  as  He  is  in  the 
Christ. 

But,  my  friends,  we  are  not  going  to  lose  our  sense  of 
perspective,  are  we?  St.  Paul  says,  you  remember,  "Covet 
earnestly  the  best  gifts."  He  speaks,  too,  of  the  "things 
that  are  more  excellent."  And  we  ourselves  imply,  by  a 
phrase  we  often  use,  that  some  things  are  more  "worth 
while"  than  others.     "Seek  ye  first,"  said  the  Master  Him- 


50  The  Imperishable  Heart 

self,  ("first,"  not  in  point  of  time,  but  in  point  of  import- 
ance)— ''seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  His 
righteousness;  and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto 
you." 

The  great  thing  is,  then,  to  put  FIRST  THINGS 
FIRST,  and  second  and  third  things  in  their  respective 
places.  .  .  .  And  this  is  all  the  more  important, 
when  the  second  and  third  things  are  not  forbidden  by  the 
Spirit  of  Christ. 

Take,  for  instance,  the  question  of  how  to  spend  our 
leisure  hours — of  how  much  time  to  give  to  our  amuse- 
ments. Surely,  under  the  sole  Mastery  of  Christ,  our  rea- 
sonable recreations  and  our  wholesome  amusements  have 
their  place,  and  are  entitled  to  a  certain  portion  of  our 
time.  Yes;  but  what  place,  and  how  much  of  our  time? 
These  are  the  questions:  let  us  be  loyal  to  CHRIST, 
when  we  go  about  to  answer  them. 

"To  dress,  to  call,  to  dine,  to  break 

No  canon  of  the  social  code. 

The  little  laws  that  lacqueys  make. 

The  futile  decalogue  of  Mode, — 
How  many  a  soul  for  these  things  lives, 

With  pious  passion,  grave  intent! 
While  Nature  careless-handed  gives 
The  things  that  are  more  excellent. 

The  grace  of  friendship — mind  and  heart 
Linked  with  their  fellow  heart  and  mind  ; 

The  gains  of  science,  gifts  of  art ; 
The  sense  of  oneness  with  our  kind ; 

The  thirst  to  know  and  understand — 


The  One  Master  51 

A  large  and  liberal  discontent : 
These  are  the  goods  in  life's  rich  hand, 
The  things  that  are  more  excellent." 

O  my  friends,  there  are  big  things  to  be  done  these 
days — there  is  a  wonderfully  rich  and  useful  life  to  be 
lived  these  days, — ^especially  by  those  of  us  who  profess  to 
hold-to  the  New  Testament  view  of  life  and  who  do  our- 
selves the  distinction  of  saying  that  'One  is  our  Master, 
even  CHRIST.'  Are  we  rising  to  the  occasion?  Or  ,are 
we  missing  our  glorious  and  Christ-sent  opportunities,  and 
remaining  on  the  dull  levels  of  mediocrity?  Are  we,  as  we 
grow  older,  'surrendering  the  ideals  of  our  lives,'  and  be- 
coming more  cynical  and  more  supine?  Or,  are  we  hold- 
ing-to  our  best  ideals,  and  seeing  more  clearly  every  day 
that  they  can  only  be  realized  "in  CHRIST" — by  our 
accepting  more  fully  His  Spirit  and  by  our  giving  our- 
selves more  heartily  to  His  Service  of  Love  and  Useful- 
ness?    Let  us  make  the  Venture  of  Faith. 


SACRIFICES  OF  JOY 

"Therefore  will  I  offer   .   .   .   sacrifices  of  joy." — Psalm 
XXVII,  6. 

^  I  *  HIS  fine  Psalm,  from  which  our  text  is  taken,  is  what 
might  be  called  a  double-header.  It  is  in  two  parts — 
of  rather  different  hue.  The  first  part  (verses  i  to  6) 
rings  with  confidence  and  gladness — born  of  the  conviction 
of  God's  care  and  help.  Then  suddenly — at  verse  7 — the 
tone  changes:  "false  witnesses"  and  "such  as  breathe  out 
cruelty"  come  into  the  Psalmist's  mind,  and  anxious  prayer 
takes  the  place  of  the  buoyancy  of  the  earlier  portion  of  the 
poem — prayer  born  of  misgiving  and  dismay.  Then — at 
the  close — another  touch  of  trust. 

Our  text,  then,  is  from  the  first  portion  of  the  Psalm, — 
the  jubilant  portion:  "Therefore  will  I  ofFer  in  His  tab- 
ernacle sacrifices  of  joy."     .     .     . 

"Sacrifices  of  Joy!"  That  is  to  say.  Sacrifices  (after 
the  manner  of  the  old  Hebrew  ritual) — sacrifices  of  pro- 
duce or  of  animal  flesh  indicative  of  gratitude  and  gladness, 
and  perhaps  to  some  happy  accompaniment — such  as  songs 
of  praise  or  the  blowing  of  trumpets. 

It  is  easy  to  see  what  was  meant,  in  the  first  instance. 

But,  my  friends,  I  cannot  help  seeing  in  this  little 
phrase  a  larger  content  than  I  have  just  indicated,  a  deeper 
suggestiveness. 

"Sacrifices  of  Joy"!  On  the  first  blush  of  it,  isn't  the 
phrase  rather  striking?     Taking  it  out  of  its  immediate 

52 


Sacrifices  of  Joy  53 

setting  here,  looking  at  it  in  its  naked  simplicity — with- 
out reference  to  the  Hebrew  ritual,  and  using  it  as  modern 
speech,  are  we  not  somewhat  surprised  at  the  originality 
of  the  phrase  (as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  occurs  only  here  in 
all  Scripture)  :  "Sacrifices  of  Joy"  ?  A  sort  of  contradic- 
tion in  terms,  is  it  not?  'Sacrifice'  and  'Joy:'  what  have 
they  in  common?  Isn't  Joy  "an  easy,  natural,  spontane- 
ous, irrepressible  thing"?  And  isn't  Sacrifice,  on  the  other 
hand,  a  hard  and  strenuous  thing, — a  thing  that  goes 
against  the  grain,  a  thing  with  not  "joy" — but  pain  and 
sorrow — at  the  heart  of  it?  How  shall  you  and  I — today, 
and  without  ritual,  and  in  the  ordinary  course  of  our  expe- 
rience—  (how  shall  you  and  I)  "offer  sacrifices  of  joy?" 
Is  it  even  necessary  for  us  to  think  about  it?  Has  the 
thing  any  meaning  for  us? 

Yes,  my  friends,  I  think  so;  and  I  w'^h  ♦■o  try  to  tell 
you,  this  morning,  how  the  element  of  SaCi  iiice  lies  at  the 
heart  of  all  Joy  that  is  pure  and  permanent  and  worthy  of 
the  name,  how  it  may  cost  us  something  to  bring  to  God 
offerings  of  Joy, — if  it  also  costs  to  bring  to  Him  offer- 
ings of  labor  and  tears.  .  .  .  And  it  is  a  thing  we 
need  to  know:  because  almost  every  soul  of  man  is  seek- 
iiig  Joy — seeking  Happiness,  but  the  thing  they  so  name 
and  so  seek  is  eluding  the  vast  majority  of  people.  Why? 
Because,  for  one  thing,  so  many  men  and  women  do  not 
know  how  to  make  the  ''sacrifices  of  Joy." 

In  what  respects,  then,  is  Joy  a  Sacrifice,  a  renounce- 
ment, a  losing  of  oneself? 

But,  mark  you,  I  am  not  thinking  so  much  of  our  ephem- 
eral joys — the  passing  gladnesses  of  every  day,  as  of  those 
heart-joys  which  have  the  element  of  permanency  in  them. 


54  The  Imperishable  Heart 

Our  ephemeral  gaiety  and  gladness  may  be  perfectly 
chaste  and  wholesome, — good  to  look  upon  and  the  best  of 
tonics.  But  the  real  Joy  of  life — the  happiness  of  the 
soul — is  something  deeper  and  more  abiding:  something 
worth  paying  for,  as  well  as  praying  for.  Yes,  it  has 
"Sacrifice"  at  the  heart  of  it;  just  as  the  most  sweet  and 
luscious  fruits  have  bitter  seeds  at  the  heart  of  them, — 
the  bitter  seed,  by  the  way,  being  the  source  and  beginning 
of  the  whole  thing. 

Let  me  remind  you,  then,  first  of  all,  that  Joy  is  not  to 
be  had  for  the  asking.  It  will  not  come  at  our  mere  bid- 
ding. It  is  continually  eluding  our  search,  and  defying 
our  capture.  In  fact  nine  times  out  of  ten  the  surest  way 
to  miss  happiness  is  to  hunt  for  it. 

To  be  sure  we  may  encourage  Joy  to  come  our  way.  We 
can  do  a  good  deal  in  the  way  of  making  the  conditions 
favorable.  But  we  simply  cannot  command  the  thing  it- 
self. It  must  ''take  place."  You  may  open  your  shutters 
and  pull  up  your  shades,  and  have  your  windows  fault- 
lessly clean,  and  have  your  various  rooms  appropriately 
painted  and  papered  so  as  to  get  the  light  to  the  best  ad- 
vantage: but  you  cannot  make  the  sun  rise  nor  manufac- 
ture the  day-light.  You  have  to  wait  for  these  things. 
Even  so,  the  preliminary  condition  of  all  true  Joy  is  to 
know^  how  to  wait  for  it.  And,  if  I  mistake  not,  there 
is  an  element  of  sacrifice  in  the  waiting  process :  especially 
when  you  have  to  wait  long,  and  when  you  see  no  signs 
of  the  coming  of  your  desire. 

Has  it  ever  occurred  to  you  how  seldom  Jesus  used 
the  words  Joy  and  Happiness:  unless  we  except  his  pretty 


Sacrifices  of  Joy  55 

frequent  use  of  the  word  ''blessed,"  which  means  some- 
thing more  than  just  'happy'?  And  yet  you  feel — do  you 
not? — that  Happiness  is  an  implicate  of  all  His  teaching. 
Not  expressly,  but  potentially,  it  is  promised  in  His  every 
parable  and  in  His  every  appeal;  and  the  gift  of  Joy 
is  at  the  heart  of  His  whole  message.  Only,  it  is  not  a 
thing  to  be  sought  exclusively,  nor  as  a  chief  end.  "Seek 
ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  His  righteousness;  and 
all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto  you."  Yes,  Joy  is 
a  thing  that  is  "added:"  a  thing  that  "takes  place:"  a 
thing  that  joins  you  on  the  road,  when  you  are  about 
your  business  and  have  almost  forgotten  that  you  were 
seeking  for  happiness. 

Yes,  joins  you  on  the  road — of  DUTY.  And  so  I 
would  remind  you,  further,  that  Joy  costs.  If,  in  a 
sense,  it  is  not  to  be  had  for  the  seeking;  in  another 
sense  it  is  to  be  had  for  the  striving. 

It  has  been  said  by  a  Swiss  writer  that  the  rule  of  the 
road  for  life  is  "a  great  duty  and  some  serious  affections:" 
and  another  Swiss  writer — a  woman  this  time — has  put 
it  SO),  "God  has  ordained  that  happiness,  like  every  other 
good  thing,  should  cost  us  something:  He  has  willed 
that  it  should  be  a  moral  achievement,  not  an  accident." 

Ah,  we  often  smile  when  we  hear  the  old  adage,  "Be 
good,  and  you'll  be  happy."  But  there  is  true  philosophy 
there.  It  is  sound  teaching.  For  does  it  not  just  mean 
that  the  secret  of  true  happiness  is  not  to  be  charmed  out 
of  Somewhere  in  some  wizard  fashion,  but  is  to  be  found 
when  we  have  almost  forgotten  to  think  about  it — in 
our  appointed  paths  of  service? 


56  The  Imperishable  Heart 

True,  there  are  giddy  gaieties  and  hollow  hilarities  to 
be  experienced  in  some  of  the  questionable  by-paths  of 
life.  But  (take  my  word  for  it,  my  young  friends)  there 
is  only  one  place  where  abiding  Joy  is  to  be  found.  And 
that  is,  where  Christ  Himself  found  it:  by  being  true  to 
the  best  that  we  know,  and  following  the  Higher  Com- 
mand. 

I  have  already  spoken  of  our  Saviour's  sparing  use  of 
the  word  Joy — or  its  like.  Well,  it  is  a  remarkable  fact 
that  He  used  that  word  most  near  the  end:  as,  for  in- 
stance, when  He  said  to  the  disciples  on  the  very  eve  of 
His  crucifixion,  "These  things  have  I  spoken  unto  you, 
that  My  joy  might  remain  in  you,  and  that  your  joy  might 
be  full."  Yes,  He  used  that  word  much  near  the  end. 
Which  means — does  it  not? — that  the  more  surely  He 
felt  Himself,  as  time  went  on,  in  line  with  God's  will, 
and  the  more  it  was  costing  Him  to  keep  to  the  path  of 
Duty  (however  thorny),  the  more  confidently  He  could 
speak  of  His  "Joy"  and  the  more  unhesitatingly  He  could 
promise  Joy  to  others.  Ay,  and  let  me  tell  you  that  the 
happiest  men  and  women  on  God's  earth  today  are  those 
who  are  'laying  down  their  own  necks'  in  sacrificial  ser- 
vice for  the  causes  that  are  most  worth  while,  who  are 
saying  in  their  hearts — with  the  Christian  Apostle  of  old 
— "Neither  count  I  my  life  dear  unto  myself,  so  that 
I  might  finish  my  course  with  joy,  and  the  ministry,  which 
I  have  received  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  to  testify  the  Gospel 
of  the  grace  of  God."  O  yes,  some  people  who  have 
traveled  a  little  in  the  East  and  made  a  nodding  acquaint- 
ance with  conditions  there  come  home  and  tell  us,  with 
an  air  of  omniscience  and  a  spirit  of  sarcasm,  that  our 


Sacrifices  of  Joy  57 

missionaries  to  the  heathen  are  a  happy  crowd  and  are 
apparently  having  a  good  time.  Of  course  they  are  a 
happy  crowd.  Why?  Because  they  believe,  and  are 
living  in  the  conviction,  that  Happiness  spells  these  two 
-ays:     D-U-T-Y,  and  S-E-R-V-I-C-E 

That  is  the  great  truth  back  of  the  well-known  lines 
of  Wordsworth — in  his  'Ode  To  Duty,' — 
''Stern  Lawgiver!  yet  thou  dost  wear 
The  Godhead's  most  benignant  grace; 
Nor  know  we  anything  so  fair 
As  is  the  smile  upon  thy  face: 
Flowers  laugh  before  thee  on  their  beds, 
And  fragrance  in  thy  footing  treads." 

And  so  I  must  say,  further,  that,  if  some  people  are 
ever  to  know  what  Joy  is,  they  will  need  a  thorough  over- 
hauling  of   their   lives. 

''Sacrifices  of  Joy!"  Yes,  indeed!  Some  things 
some  individuals  must  'sacrifice' — some  things  they  must 
cut  out — if  they  are  to  be  really  glad,  if  they  are  to  be 
unaffectedly  happy,  if  "the  joy  of  the  Lord"  is  to  be  theirs. 
This  or  that  tarnishing  and  gloom-producing  habit,  it 
may  be.  Or,  their  sourness.  Or,  their  proneness  to  nurse 
their  grudges.  Or,  their  sinuous  and  insinuating  inter- 
est in  other  folks'  affairs.  Or,  their  laziness.  Or,  their 
feverish  worldliness.  And  so  forth,  and  so  on.  Joy 
cannot  live  with  these  things — and  such  as  these.  Joy 
says  to  us,  when  we  ask  it  why  it  does  not  tarry  with  us, 
"Feed  me  with  food  convenient  for  me:  congenial  com- 
pany, too,  I  must  have,  if  I  am  to  make  my  home  in 
your  hearts." 


58  The  Imperishable  Heart 

O,  my  friends,  is  it  any  wonder  that  some  people  are 
unhappy — awfully  unhappy?  For  the  worst  kind  of  un- 
happiness — the  most  bitter  and  most  benumbing  kind  of 
misery — is  the  kind  a  man  brings  upon  himself  "Sorrow  is 
hard  to  bear."  Yes,  bereavement,  and  the  estrangement 
of  friends,  and  the  untowardness  of  circumstances,  and 
sickness,  and  the  various  "slings  and  arrows  of  outrageous 
fortune"  (if  we  choose,  with  Shakespeare,  to  phrase  it 
that  way)  are  all  "hard  to  bear."  But  they  are  only  a 
drop  in  the  bucket  compared  with  the  abject  misery  of  the 
man  who  is  putting  Joy  farther  and  farther  away  from 
him  every  day  by  allow^ing  his  better  self  to  be  gradually 
crushed  out  of  him  by  SIN;  and  who  has  still  the  sense 
to  see  the  ghastly  truth  of  it  all,  and  the  conscience  to 
feel  the  shame  of  it, — but  ...  he  will  not  bring 
himself  to  make  the  ''sacrifices  of  joy." 

And  then,  brethren,  is  it  not  the  case  that  sometimes 
— for  the  sake  of  the  other  fellow — you  assume  an  aspect 
of  gladness,  when  you  are  by  no  means  glad  yourself — 
when  your  heart  is  sore?  I  came  across  a  Calendar 
maxim  the  other  day  on  this  wise,  "Look  pleasant,  even 
if  you  do  not  feel  so."  Rather  a  difficult  proposition! 
Yes,  one  of  the  "sacrifices  of  joy."  And,  blessed  are  the 
souls  who  can  bring  themselves  to  make  that  'sacrifice!' 
I  know  some  of  them.  Their  lives  spoiled,  and  over- 
burdened with  cares  that  they  ought  to  have  been 
spared:  their  hearts  hungering  for  sympathy  and  love, 
and  still  hungering  in  vain:  their  dearest  and  worthiest 
ambitions  shattered  long  ago,  and  never  likely  to  be 
renewed  again  on  this  side  of  time.     And  yet — whatever 


Sacrifices  of  Joy  5g 

they  may  feel  in  the  secret  places  of  their  own  souls 
and  whatever  they  may  be  in  their  lonely  hours — they 
are  always  kind  and  cheerful  amid  their  human  fellow- 
ships, and  are  always  speaking  the  best  of  people — even 
of  those  who  have  ministered  to  their  want  and  woe,  and 
have  always  a  word  of  heartening  for  the  discouraged 
of  their  acquaintance.  How  do  they  do  it?  Well,  I 
suppose  it  is  the  old  explanation: — that  they  are  "in 
Christ,"  that  His  Joy  abides  in  them,  that  they  are 
'abounding  in  Hope  through  the  power  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.' 

And  then,  brethren,  doesn't  the  New  Testament  ex- 
hort us  to  "rejoice  with  them  that  do  rejoice"  as  well  as 
"weep  with  them  that  weep" — to  companion  people 
heartily  in  their  joys  as  well  as  comfort  them  healingly 
in  their  sorrows? 

And  that  calls  for  'sacrifice' — does  it  not?  To  be  glad 
of  the  children's  gladness;  to  be  interested  in  the  projects 
of  the  youth  about  you,  and  appreciative  of  their  ambi- 
tions; to  be  really  glad  of  your  friend's  prosperity  in  bus- 
iness, or  in  his  family;  to  have  no  shadow  of  a  grudge 
that  your  neighbor  has  had  some  stroke  of  good  fortune 
which  has  not  come  your  way, — albeit  you  may  have  de- 
served it  not  less.  All  that  may  seem  less  necessary,  less 
distinctively  Christian, — it  may  seem  to  involve  less  self- 
renunciation  than  sympathizing  with  men  in  their  sorrows 
and  reaching  out  the  helping  hand.  Yet  in  some  ways 
'rejoicing  with  them  that  do  rejoice'  is  a  nobler  thing — a 
greater  spiritual  achievement — than  'weeping  with  them 
that  weep.'     It  implies  a  higher  reach  of  unselfishness. 


6o  The  Imperishable  Heart 

For  it  means  that  you  have  overcome  envy  and  jealousy 
and  all  that  hideous  and  greedy  brood.  It  means  that 
you  have  become  emancipated  from  yourself,  and  are  on 
the  sure  way  to  possessing  the  Mind  of  Christ. 

And  then,  my  friends,  have  w^e  not  been  told  scores 
of  times  and  in  scores  of  ways  and  by  scores  of  people, 
and  do  we  not  know,  that  Making  Others  Happy  is  the 
best  happiness?  Well,  doesn't  that  cost  something? 
Doesn't  it  call  for  self-repression  and  self-sacrifice — in  lit- 
tle things  and  in  great?  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,  for 
instance,  that  in  wedded  life  (even  the  most  ideally  har- 
monious and  happy  wedded  life)  there  are  no  self-renun- 
ciations on  this  side  and  on  that?  Why!  it  is  precisely 
because  some  couples  have  come  together  with  no  thought 
of  making  sacrifices  in  one  another's  favor  that  their  mar- 
ried lives  are  unhappy,  and  perhaps  in  course  of  time 
broken.  Similarly,  if  the  relations  between  parents  and 
children — or  between  a  pastor  and  his  people — or  between 
an  employer  of  labor  and  his  employes — if  relations  such 
as  these  are  to  be  harmonious  and  happy  and  helpful, 
there  must  be  self-sacrifice,  give  as  well  as  take,  on  both 
sides — the  "Sacrifices  of  Joy." 

Who  is  HE  whom  we  are  entitled  to  call  the  world's 
supreme  Joy-Bringer?  Who  is  HE  who  has  done  most 
to  make  others  happy?  Is  it  not  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
of  whose  appearance  the  heavenly  voice  above  the  plains 
of  Bethlehem  sang,  "Behold,  I  bring  you  good  tidings  of 
great  joy,  which  shall  be  to  all  people?"  We  know  some- 
thing of  what  He  has  done  to  cheer  and  gladden  Human- 
ity— to  "give  .  .  .  beauty  for  ashes,  the  oil  of  joy 
for  mourning,   the   garment  of   praise   for   the   spirit   of 


Sacrifices  of  Joy  6 1 

heaviness."     For,   first  of   all  and   best   of   all,   He  has 
gone  to  the  root  of  all  unhappiness  and  has  touched  Sin 
with  His  holy  touch  of  destruction,  and  made  us  free  (if 
we  will).     Yes,  but  at  what  a  cost!     At  what  a  'sac- 
rifice' has  our  "Joy"  been  made  sure  to  us!     Truly,  on 
the  Cross  He  was  offering  the  "sacrifices  of  joy." 
"Did  e'er  such  love  and  sorrow  meet. 
Or  thorns  compose  so  rich  a  crown?" 
And,  my  friends,  just  because  our  Joy  has  been  made 
sure  to  us  in  that  way — through  Love  going  to  the  limit 
of  self-sacrifice, — it  is  no  shallow  and  evanescent  happi- 
ness, ready  to  take  wings  and  fly  away;    but  deep  and 
abiding.     As  the  Christ  Himself  said,  "Your  heart  shall 
rejoice,  and  your  joy  no  man  taketh  from  you."     .     .     . 

Brethren,  am  I  talking  to  any  man  or  woman  this 
morning — younger  or  older — ^who  has  never  been  really 
happy,  who  does  not  know  what  JOY  is — the  indescrib- 
able and  indestructible  joy  of  the  soul?  If  so,  here  is  a 
question  for  you, — Have  you  made  the  needed  'sacrifice'? 
If  not,  need  you  wonder  at  the  joylessness  of  your  life! 

"I  will  offer  .  .  .  the  sacrifices  of  joy:"  then — 
"I  will  sing,  yea,  I  will  sing  praises  unto  the  Lord." 


VI 

ARE  WE  ALL  SINNERS? 

''If  we  say  that  we  have  no  sin,  we  deceive  ourselves.'' — 
I  John  i,  8. 

\X7^E  are  accustomed  to  think  of  the  season  of  Lent 
as  being  a  suitable  time  for  self-examination,  a  suit- 
able time  for  taking — so  to  speak — a  moral  and  spiritual 
inventory  of  ourselves.  Where  do  we  stand  with  God? 
How  far  have  we  gone  in  our  emancipation  from  evil? 
Where  are  we  in  the  way  of  moral  and  spiritual  progress? 

We  know,  indeed,  that  self-examination  may  be  over- 
done; may  become  a  habit  of  morbid  introspection, — not 
wholesome  but  harmful.  "To  watch  one's  soul  all  the 
time,  seeking  for  moral  disease,  is  as  bad  as  to  watch  one's 
body  all  the  time,  seeking  for  physical  disease."  And, 
after  all,  the  uplook  and  the  outlook  are  better  than  the 
inlook. 

But  surely  there  is  a  wise  and  wholesome  and  helpful 
type  of  self-examination.  And  surely  also  it  is  greatly 
needed  by  us  in  these  days  of  haste  and  of  "the  world" 
being  so  much  "with  us."  You  recollect  how  the  Book 
here  says,  "Let  a  man  examine  himself."  And,  when  we 
ask  God — in  the  familiar  language  of  the  Psalm — to 
"search  us  and  know  our  hearts"  and  to  "try  us  and  know 
our  thoughts,"  we  are,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  asking 
for  grace  to  search  ourselves  and  know  our  own  hearts 
and  to  try  ourselves  and  know  our  own  thoughts. 

Well  then,  if,  in  making  our  moral  and  spiritual  in- 
62 


Are  We  All  Sinners?  63 

ventory,    **if   we   say    that   we   have   no   sin,   we   deceive 
ourselves,  and  the  truth  is  not  in  us." 

"We  deceive  ourselves!"  To  deceive  the  other  fellow 
is  bad  enough:  to  deceive  oneself  is  worse  in  many  ways. 
To  deceive  the  other  fellow  is  treachery:  to  deceive  one- 
self is  tragedy.  For  it  is  the  end  of  all  sincerity:  it  is 
the  end  of  all  progress  along  the  higher  lines. 

And,  verily,  we  do  "deceive  ourselves" — "if  we  say 
that  we  have  no  sin"  (that  is,  if  we  "say"  it  in  our  hearts 
— if  we  try  to  persuade  ourselves  that  it  is  so).  For,  as 
Phillips  Brooks  has  said,  "When  a  man  sees  himself,  he 
always  sees   sin." 

Now,  it  has  frequently  been  said  (not  so  frequently 
these  days,  perhaps,  as  it  used  to  be :  but  we  are  not  in  all 
respects  wiser  than  our  predecessors) — it  has  frequently 
been  said  that  we  shall  never  really  understand  our  need 
of  CHRIST,  and  that  we  shall  never  really  appreciate  the 
wonder  and  the  worth  of  His  redeeming  work,  until  we 
have  a  proper  sense  of  Sin.  As  the  well-known  hymn 
has  it, 

"Convince  us  of  our  sin, 

Then  lead  to  Jesus'  blood, 
And  to  our  wondering  view  reveal 
The  secret  love  of  God." 

Well,  it  seems  to  me  that  a  proper  sense  of  Sin  is 
largely  lacking,  these  days,  in  many  quarters, — a  proper 
sense  of  the  horror  of  it,  and  the  subtlety  of  it,  and  the 
pervasiveness  of  it,  and  of  its  presence — in  greater  or 
less  degree — in  these  human  lives  of  ours  without  excep- 
tion.    To  a  large  extent  the  men  and  women  of  today 


64  The  Imperishable  Heart 

dislike  the  word  "sin,"  and  have  dropped  it  from  their 
vocabulary;  and  they  are  finding  longer  and  more  innoc- 
uous words  for  it.  A  fellow  does  not  "sin"  now-a-days: 
he  makes  a  moral  aberration.  A  fellow  is  not  a  "sinner" 
now-a-days :  he  is  a  paranoiac,  or  something  of  that  sort. 

But,  brethren,  there  is  no  other  word  in  the  language 
that  can  take  the  place  of  the  little  word  "Sin."  There 
is  no  other  word  that  can  compare  with  it  for  incisive- 
ness,  and  for  comprehensiveness,  and  for  solemnity  of  re- 
ligious significance. 

And  let  me  tell  you  that  this  little  word — or  one  or 
other  of  its  immediate  derivatives — (not  to  speak  of 
words  like  'iniquity'  and  'wickedness'  and  'trespass'  and 
'transgression'  and  'unrighteousness') — this  little  word 
occurs  something  like  700  times  in  these  Scriptures, — 
over  200  times  in  the  New  Testament  alone. 

What  then?  "If  we  say  that  we  have  no  sin,  we  de- 
ceive ourselves." 

For,  brethren,   there  has  only  been  ONE,  of  Whom 
it  could  be  said  that  He  "knew  no  sin"  and  "did  no  sin," 
and  Who  could  say — for  Himself — "Which  of  you  con- 
victeth  me  of  sin?" 
"But  Thee,  but  Thee,  O  sovereign  Seer  of  time. 

But  Thee,  O  poets'  Poet,  Wisdom's  tongue. 

But  Thee,  O  man's  best  Man,  O  love's  best  Love, 

O  perfect  life  in  perfect  labor  writ, 

O  all  men's  Comrade,  Servant,  King,  or  Priest, — 

What  if  or  yet,  what  mole,  what  flaw,  what  lapse. 

What  least  defect  or  shadow  of  defect. 

What  rumor,  tattled  by  an  enemy, 

Of  inference  loose,  what  lack  of  grace 


Are  We  All  Sinnersf  6$ 

Even  in  torture's  grasp,  or  sleep's,  or  death's — 
Oh,  what  amiss  may  I  forgive  in  Thee, 
Jesus,  good  Paragon,  thou  Crystal  Christ?" 
Yes,  "if  we  say  that  we  have  no  sin,  we  deceive  ourselves," 
and  we  put  ourselves — forsooth — on  that  sublime  level. 

The  majority  of  us,  to  be  sure,  cannot  say,  with  any 
show  of  fairness  whatever,  that  "we  have  no  sin."  We 
are  all  too  conscious  that  we  "have"  a  considerable 
amount  of  it;  and  perhaps  we  are  willing  to  say  so  quite 
frankly.  Anyhow,  before  GOD  we  are  abashed  and 
humbled.  And,  when  it  comes  to  a  question  of  our 
deserts,  we  are  about  minded  to  say,  with  Robert  Louis 
Stevenson,  "One  need  not  complain  of  a  pebble  in  the 
shoe,  when  by  mere  justice  one  should  rot  in  a  dungeon." 

The  fact  remains,  however,  that  there  are  quite  a  few 
people  who  thoroughly  dislike  the  words  "sin"  and  "sin- 
ner;" who  object  to  apply  these  words  to  themselves,  and 
object  to  have  other  people  applying  these  words  to 
them.  Either  they  profess  not  to  understand  all  this  talk 
about  Sin:  or  else,  with  a  certain  amount  of  understand- 
ing of  it,  they  resent  it — and  that  rather  petulantly.  Per- 
haps they  would  not  call  themselves  saints;  but  they  art 
not  going  to  call  themselves  sinners.  They  refuse  to 
say,  with  Jacob  of  old,  "O  God  ...  I  am  not 
worthy  of  all  the  mercies,  and  of  all  the  truth,  which 
Thou  hast  shewed  unto  thy  servant:"  because  (they  might 
hint)  they  have  not  been  so  crafty  as  Jacob  was.  They 
refuse  to  'stand  afar  off,'  like  the  publican  of  the  Gos- 
pels, and  to  smite  upon  their  breasts,  saying,  "God  be 
merciful  to  me  a  sinner:"  because  (they  plight  hint)  they 


66  The  Imperishable  Heart 

have  not  been  grafters,  as  the  "publicans"  of  Palestine 
were  reputed  to  be  for  the  most  part.  They  object  to 
sing,  with  Charles  Wesley,  "I  am  all  unrighteousness; 
False  and  full  of  sin  I  am:"  because  (they  might  say) 
that  is  simply  not  true.  They  are  living  (they  would 
say)  decent,  honest,  clean,  industrious  lives;  and  they  are 
harming  no  one.  What  more  could  be  wanted?  To  all 
intents  and  purposes  they  are  'saying  that  they  have  no 
sin/ 

Well,  brethren,  perhaps  it  is  not  necessary  that  we 
should  all  use — every  day,  or  even  every  Sunday — the 
precise  words  of  the  patriarch  Jacob  which  I  have  just 
quoted ;  or  the  precise  words  and  the  precise  posture  of 
the  publican  of  Jesus'  parable;  or  the  precise  words  of 
that  particular  hymn  of  Charles  Wesley. 

Nevertheless,  ''if" — no  matter  who  we  are,  or  what 
we  are — "(if)  we  say  that  we  have  no  sin,  we  deceive 
ourselves,  and  the  truth  is  not  in  us."  Before  GOD, 
and  by  comparison  with  the  "Crystal  Christ,"  we  have 
all  "sinned,  and  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God." 

"If  we  say  that  we  have  no  sin,  we  deceive  ourselves." 
Ay,  there  is  the  very  first  symptom  of  Sin  in  the  man  who 
refuses  to  own  himself  a  sinner.  Sin  has  "deceived"  him. 
For  that  is  a  way  Sin  has.  It  deceives  us.  It  distorts 
our  vision.  It  spoils  our  perspective.  It  takes  the  edge 
off  our  finer  sensibilities.  So  that  we  are  prone  to  think 
we  are  what  we  are  not.  Yes,  in  many  cases  those  who 
say,  with  a  dash  of  petulant  pride,  'Why,  what  evil  have 
we  done?'  are  just  about  the  greatest  sinners  of  all — if 
they  only  knew  it:  "having  the  understanding  darkened, 


Are  We  All  Stnnersf  67 

being  alienated  from  the  life  of  God  through  the  ignor- 
ance that  is  in  them,  because  of  the  blindness  of  their 
heart."  You  remember  how  Job  finished  up  his  col- 
loquy with  the  Almighty — spite  of  the  fact  that  he  reck- 
oned himself  an  innocent  man  according  to  the  usual 
standard  and  counted  his  extreme  sufferings  undeserved, 
— you  remember  how  he  said  at  the  end,  "I  have  heard  of 
Thee  by  the  hearing  of  the  ear:  but  now  mine  eye  seeth 
Thee.  Wherefore  I  abhor  myself,  and  repent  in  dust 
and  ashes."  O  yes,  the  truly  godly  men  of  the  centuries 
have  never  said — any  one  of  them — that  they  had  "no 
sin."  Indeed  it  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  the  more  godly 
and  the  more  saintly  they  have  become,  the  more  pathetic 
and  the  more  sincere  has  their  confession  of  sin  become: 
because,  I  suppose,  their  ideals  have  always  been  rising 
with  their  achievements,  and  they  have  been  realizing 
more  fully  every  day  what  the  Perfect  Purity  and  the 
Perfect  Love  must  mean.     .     .     . 

Then,  my  friends,  will  you  consider  such  things  as 
these  ? — 

According  to  the  New  Testament  standard,  if  I  am 
not  very  far  mistaken  (and  if  I  am  mistaken,  I  am  in 
amazing  good  company), — according  to  the  New  Testa- 
ment standard  it  is  not  enough  that  we  refrain  from  do- 
ing evil ;  we  are  to  get  some  positive  good  done.  "Good- 
ness is  energy.  It  is  not  the  absence  of  faults  (merely), 
it  is  the  presence  of  moral  dynamic."  Which  of  us  can 
say,  then,  that  his  "moral  dynamic"  is  as  live  and  active 
as  it  might  be?  "If  we  know  the  love  of  God,"  some 
one  has  said,  "(if  we  know  the  love  of  God),  we  cannot 


68  The  Imperishable  Heart 

look  back  upon  even  a  wasted  hour  without  sorrow."  O 
yes,  so  long  as  we  are  not  doing  our  positive  best,  we  are 
yet  at  least  half-"dead  in  trespasses  and  sins."  And  you 
know  that  one  of  our  Saviour's  most  awful  words  of  con- 
demnation was  just  this, — ''Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  not." 
It  is  pathetic — it  is  tragic — to  see  some  people  taking  such 
good  care  of  themselves,  both  physically  and  morally,  but 
not  doing  a  hand's  turn  to  make  themselves  useful  in  this 
world.  They  are  scrupulously  careful — O  yes:  they  are 
very  correct — O  yes:  they  never  do  anything  wrong — O 
no!  But  they  never  do  anything  right:  and  I  am  inclined 
to  agree  with  George  Macdonald  when  he  says  that  "no 
indulgence  of  passion  destroys  the  spiritual  nature  so 
much  as  respectable  selfishness."  "Respectable  selfish- 
ness!"    How  horrible!     How  utterly  unChristlike ! 

Again,  what  about  the  spiritual  Sins? — Pride,  Con- 
temptuousness,  Insensate  Anger,  "Envy,  Hatred,  and  Mal- 
ice, and  all  Uncharitableness."  Can  any  human  say 
that  he  is  entirely  free  from  all  these  things — and  such 
as  these?  Some  people  are  apt  to  think  that,  because  they 
are  free  from  the  sins  of  the  flesh  and  the  grosser  forms 
of  evil,  they  "have  no  sin."  Brethren,  there  could  not  be 
a  greater  mistake.  Have  you  ever  read — discerningly — 
St.  Paul's  catalogue  of  what  he  calls  "the  works  of  the 
flesh,"  the  things  which  disqualify  a  man  from  citizen- 
ship in  the  Kingdom?  Well,  the  catalogue  begins  with 
"adultery,"  and  finishes  with  "revellings,  and  such  like;" 
but,  mark  you,  it  includes  such  things  as  these — "las- 
civiousness"  (that  is,  looseness  or  lustfulness  of  thought) ^ 
— lasciviousness,    .    .    .    hatred,    .    .      .    wrath,  strife, 


Are  We  All  Sinners?  69 

.     .     .     envyings,"  and  others  of  that  order.    .    .    . 
Of  a  truth  we  have  need  to  'search  ourselves  and  know 
our  hearts'  and  to  'try  ourselves  and  know  our  thoughts' 
— ere  we  presume  to  ''say  that  we  have  no  sin." 

Again,  what  about  the  little  Sins, — which  we  are  scarce- 
ly minded  to  call  "sins"  at  all?  That  is  too  severe,  and 
as  it  were  too  august,  a  name  for  them.  .  .  .  Is  it? 
You  know,  our  African  explorers  have  told  us  that  they 
have  not  been  nearly  so  much  afraid  of  the  lions  as  of  the 
little  tsetse  fly,  whose  bite  means  fever  for  a  certainty, 
and  not  uncommonly  death.  And  you  don't  need  to 
smash  the  glasses  of  a  telescope,  or  give  them  a  thick 
coating  of  paint,  in  order  to  prevent  you  seeing  through 
them.  Just  breathe  on  them,  and  the  stars  are  shut 
out.  Even  so,  the  little  sins  may  do  great  damage:  the 
little  discourtesies,  the  little  complainings,  the  little  nag- 
gings, the  little  neglects,  the  little  unfaithfulnesses,  and  so 
forth.  Is  any  of  us  perfect,  then,  just  here?  "Keep 
us,"  writes  Christian  Rossetti  in  one  of  her  prayers, 
"(keep  us)  from  dividing  Thy  commandments  into  great 
and  small,  according  to  our  own  blind  estimate." 

Again,  there  is  an  interesting  test  proposed,  you  recol- 
lect, in  the  Epistle  of  James:  "If  any  man  offend  not  in 
word,  the  same  is  a  perfect  man."  Is  any  of  us  perfect 
just  there? — never  'offending  in  word':  all  our  words,  on 
all  occasions  (both  in  public  and  in  private,  both  when  we 
are  speaking  to  people  and  when  we  are  speaking  about 
people) — all  our  words  just  as  true  and  sweet  and  kind 
and  encouraging,  and  what  not,  as  they  might  be:  all 
our  words  redolent  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ  ?     Why !  every 


70  The  Imperishable  Heart 

one  of  us,  I  cannot  but  think,  is  'sinning  and  coming  short' 
in  that  respect  every  day.  Yes,  you  remember  what  the 
prophet  Isaiah  exclaimed,  (and  Isaiah  was  a  pretty  good 
man,  I  guess)  when  once  he  got  the  true  vision  of  the 
All-holy  God:  "Then  said  I,  Woe  is  me!  for  I  am  un- 
done ;  because  I  am  a  man  of  unclean  lips  .  .  .  :  for 
mine  eyes  have  seen  the  King,  the  Lord  of  Hosts." 

Again,  I  was  talking,  the  other  day,  with  one  of  our 
ministers  who  has  made  a  study  of  the  ethics  of  our  Amer- 
ican Economics;  and  he  said  this — he  was  talking  about 
the  methods  of  a  certain  type  of  evangelist — (he  said 
this),  It's  easy  enough  to  lash  away  at  the  crass  and 
blatant  sins  of  this  Country;  but  the  worst  sins  of  this 
Country — the  sins,  too,  which  are  responsible  for  many  of 
the  others — are  its  economic  sins.  And  so,  my  friends,  a 
man  who  is  living  a  thoroughly  clean  and  upright  and 
generous  life  (so  far  as  his  own  personality  is  concerned) 
may  all  the  while  be  tacitly  consenting  to  an  unjust  and 
unjustifiable  economic  situation:  in  regard  to  the  matter 
of  work  and  wages,  for  instance.  True,  it  may  be  "in 
ignorance"  that  he  is  so  consenting.  But,  remember,  al- 
though Paul  says  of  his  life  of  'persecuting'  and  'blas- 
pheming' before  he  came  to  know  Christ,  that  he  "did 
it  ignorantly  in  unbelief,"  he  does  not  omit  to  call  him- 
self, in  the  same  passage,  the  "chief"  of  "sinners." 
There  is  another  thing  to  think  about — for  those 
who  may  be  inclined  to  'say  that  they  have  no  sin.' 

And  then,  brethren,  finally  and  as  the  sum  of  all,  what 
are  we  to  think  of  ourselves  when  we  measure  ourselves 


Are  We  All  Sinner sf  7 1 

up  with  the  Peerless  CHRIST?  On  one  occasion — it  is 
told — Charles  Lamb  and  some  of  his  friends  were  talk- 
ing in  a  sort  of  gay  fashion,  about  how  they  would  feel 
and  act  if  some  of  the  greatest  of  the  dead  were  to  appear 
suddenly  among  them  in  flesh  and  blood.  'If  Plato 
entered  the  room?  or  Shakespeare?  or  Milton?' — and  so 
on.  Then  some  one  asked,  'And  if  CHRIST  entered 
this  room?'  Whereupon  Lamb  suddenly  changed  his 
tone  and  stuttered  out,  as  his  manner  was  when  moved, 
"You  see,  if  Shakespeare  entered  we  should  all  rise.  If 
HE  appeared,  we  must  kneel." 

Enough  said! 
"If  we  say  that  we  have  no  sin,  we  deceive  ourselves, 
and  the  truth  is  not  in  us. 

If  we  confess  our  sins.  He  is  faithful  and  just 
to  forgive  us  our  sins,  and  to  cleanse  us  from 
all  unrighteousness." 

"Convince  us  of  our  sin, 

Then  lead  to  Jesus'  blood." 


VII 
MANY  THINGS :  BUT  NOT  THE  THING 

"He  did  many  things** — Mark  VI,  20. 

TF  the  author  of  the  Second  Gospel  was  not  a  liter- 
ary artist  born,  he  certainly  became  one  when  he 
reached  this  particular  narrative — the  account  of  John 
the  Baptist's  death.  It  is  just  about  the  most  vivacious  por- 
tion of  Scripture  you  need  wish  to  read.  It  throbs  and 
flashes  with  live  humanity.  Extremes  meet  here,  too: 
from  the  rectitude  and  courage  of  the  Baptist  to  the 
maudlin  weakness  of  Herod  and  the  diabolical  wicked- 
ness of  Herodias.  It  is  both  lively  and  lurid.  In  almost 
every  verse  there  is  a  knife-like  thrust,  cutting  into  the 
corruption  of  a  time  which  greatly  needed  to  be  dissected 
with  the  Sword  of  the  Spirit. 

Herod  was  in  a  bad  case.  He  had  "married"  (such 
was  the  looseness  of  the  times  )^-he  had  "married"  his 
brother's  wife,  without — so  far  as  we  know — any  divorce 
process  having  been  instituted.  And  he  was  doubly  in 
the  wrong;  because  his  relationship  with  Herodias  (apart 
from  her  being  his  brother's  wife)  was  within  the  forbid- 
den degrees. 

But,  whereas  Herodias  was  unscrupulously  wicked  and 
would  stick  at  nothing  to  get  rid  of  John  the  Baptist, 
Herod  was  not  beyond  having  qualms  of  conscience  and  a 
certain  sense  of  honor.  So  that,  on  the  one  hand,  he 
"heard"  John  "gladly;"  while,  on  the  other  hand,  "for 
his  oath's  sake"  he  would  not  go  back  upon  his  wild  prom- 

72 


Many   Things,  But  Not  the  Thing  73 

ise  to  Herodias'  daughter — to  give  her  'whatsoever  she 
should  ask  of  him     ...     to  the  half  of  his  kingdom.' 

And  so  one  of  the  keenest  and  most  illuminating  flashes 
of  the  narrative  before  us  is  in  the  verse  from  vi^hich  my 
text  is  taken :  "For  Herod  feared  John,  know^ing  that  he 
vv^as  a  just  man  and  an  holy,  and  observed  him;  and  when 
he  heard  him,  he  did  many  things,  and  heard  him  gladly." 

Yes,  "he  did  many  things:"  but  not  the  thing.  He 
amended  his  ways,  perhaps,  in  this  direction  and  in  that; 
took  some  little  new  interest,  perhaps,  in  holy  things ;  and, 
in  all  probability,  he  made  things  as  comfortable  as  pos- 
sible for  the  prisoner-prophet.  But  he  did  not  "screw" 
his  "courage  to  the  sticking-place"  and  put  away  his  un- 
lawful wife.  And  so  long  as  he  was  living  in  that  illicit 
union,  he  could  not  possibly  rise  above  a  certain  miserable 
level.  His  soul  was  the  Devil's  prisoner.  With  He- 
rodias renounced,  he  would  presumably  have  been  guilt- 
less of  the  Baptist's  blood,  and  a  better  man  in  twenty 
difiEerent  ways. 

"He  did  many  things;"  but  not  the  thing! 

If  you  turn  to  the  Old  Testament  and  read  the  account 
of  the  Kings  of  Judah,  you  will  come  across  this  sort  of 
passage  every  now  and  again:  "And  he"  (referring  to 
one  or  other  of  the  kings)  "and  he  did  that  which  was 
right  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord,  according  to  all  that  his 
father  had  done;  save  that  the  high  places  were  not  re- 
moved: the  people  sacrificed  and  burned  incense  still  on 
the  high  places."  In  other  words,  Joash  or  Uzziah — or 
whoever  the  particular  king  might  be — was  in  many  re- 
spects a  good   fellow;    but  he  permitted   the  people  to 


74  The  Imperishable  Heart 

continue  their  idolatrous  customs,  and  was  therefore  weak 
and  unhelpful  in  that  one  direction. 

Then  you  remember  how  Jesus  said  to  the  rich  young 
ruler,  who  could  boast  of  a  remarkably  clean  record  in 
respect  of  his  personal  morals,  "Yet  lackest  thou  one 
thing:  sell  all  that  thou  hast,  .  .  .  and  come,  fol- 
low Me."  *'Yet  lackest  thou  one  thing."  Just  "one" 
thing!  Yes,  but  it  was  a  big  thing — freedom  from  the 
entanglement  of  his  wealth.  It  was  the  thing  that  would 
have  enabled  him  to  enter  into  fulness  of  life — according 
to  Christ's  view  of  life.  He  had  'done  many  things,'  and 
was  apparently  a  fine  and  lovable  fellow:  but  the  thing 
that  would  have  made  him  an  emancipated  man,  and  a 
consecrated  man,  and  a  useful  man,  and  a  happy  man,  he 
had  yet  to  do :  and  he  broke  down  at  the  critical  point. 

I 

"He  did  many  things;"    but  not  the  thing. 

Ah,  how  true  to  human  nature!  What  a  host  of  in- 
dividuals there  are  who  are  'doing  many  things' — good 
and  estimable  things,  and  doing  them  with  a  considerable 
amount  of  grace  and  goodwill  and  unselfish  abandon; 
who  are  all  the  while  failing  to  do  the  thing  that  would 
lift  them  out  of  moral  mediocrity  and  make  them  "great 
in  the  kingdom  of  heaven!"  How  many  men  there  are 
who  are  not  fully  realizing  themselves,  who  are  not  com- 
ing to  their  best  as  swiftly  and  as  surely  as  they  might; 
because  they  are  not  concentrating  on  the  'one  thing  need- 
ful!' How  many  people  there  are  who  are  not  'closing 
with  Christ'  (to  use  a  familiar  and  suggestive  evangelistic 
phrase),  because  some  one  thing  in  their  life  they  have  yet 
to  make  up  their  minds  to  renounce!     O  yes,  in  order  to 


Many   Things,  But  Not  the  Thing  75 

please  good  people  and  to  comply — at  least  respectably — 
with  Christian  principle  and  Christian  custom,  and  (it  may 
be)  out  of  the  natural  amiability  of  our  hearts,  we  will  do 
all  sorts  of  things,  .  .  .  except  the  one  thing  that  is 
going  to  put  us  absolutely  and  unequivocally  right  with 
CHRIST. 

And  then,  how  some  people  fail  you  at  the  critical  mo- 
ment !  How  some  people  have  the  awkward  knack  of  not 
being  on  deck  just  when  you  want  them  and  are  most 
trustingly  relying  upon  them!  They  have  'done  many 
things,'  have  done  their  part  right  enough  here  and  there, 
have  helped  you  out  well  at  this  point  and  at  that, — to 
your  cordial  and  thankful  satisfaction.  But,  somehow  or 
other,  just  when  you  most  need  them — just  when  you 
are  most  depending  upon  them,  they  are  not  there;  and 
their  usefulness  has  suddenly  been  discounted.  (I  am 
speaking,  of  course,  of  preventible  hanging-back  from  ser- 
vice). 

Then,  of  course,  we  all  know  how  some  folks'  useful- 
ness is  handicapped — sometimes  hopelessly  handicapped — by 
some  twist  of  temper,  or  by  some  bitterness  of  tongue,  or 
by  some  questionable  habit.  They  are  'just  fine'  in  this 
way  and  in  that,  and  are  'doing  many  things'  that  are 
really  worth  while.  But  every  now  and  again  their  con- 
spicuous weakness  or  their  besetting  sin  gets  the  better  of 
them,  and  all  but  annihilates,  so  to  speak,  the  whole  struc- 
ture of  their  good  influence. 

"  'Tis  true :     .     .     .     And  pity  't  is  't  is  true." 

But,  my  friends,  I  wish,  this  evening,  not  merely  to 
criticize;    but,   rather,   to  counsel  and   to  confirm:   not 


76  The  Imperishable  Heart 

merely  to  hit;   but,  rather,  to  help. 

And  so  I  wish  to  say,  once  for  all,  that  I  am  very  well 
aware  how  difficult  it  may  be  to  do  the  thing  in  addition 
to  the  "many  things."  Do  not  for  a  moment  imagine 
that  I  under-rate  the  difficulty  of  the  process,  ay  the 
almost  impossibility  of  the  process — apart  from  the  grace 
of  God.  (I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  dealing  from  this  pul- 
pit with  things  I  know  nothing  about:  I  usually  ''speak 
that  I  do  know".) 

Of  course  it  would  have  been  immensely  difficult  for 
the  well-disposed  kings  of  Judah  to  put  an  end  to  the 
idolatry  of  their  subjects  throughout  the  length  and 
breadth  of  the  land.  It  would  have  been  immensely  diffi- 
cult for  the  rich  young  ruler  to  'sell  all  that  he  had'  and 
adopt  the  simple  and  small-pursed  and  selfless  fashion  of 
life  which  Jesus  and  His  disciples  were  leading.  It  would 
have  been  immensely  difficult — presumably — for  Herod 
to  part  with  Herodias  and  ask  his  brother  to  take  her 
back  again  to  his  home.  .  .  .  Indeed  the  chief  rea- 
son why  the  thing  is  not  done,  in  this  instance  and  in  that, 
why  the  fatal  hindrance  is  not  renounced,  is  just  the  un- 
speakable difficulty  of  the  process.  Sometimes,  no  doubt, 
under  the  constraint  of  CHRIST,  it  is  wonderfully  easy 
— even  at  a  first  attempt.  But  usually,  and  to  the  "nat- 
ural man"  certainly,  it  is  difficult.  Is  it  bitterness  of 
speech  that  is  your  hindrance?  You  know  how  difficult 
it  is  to  'tame  the  tongue.'  Is  it  pettishness  of  disposition 
that  is  your  hindrance?  You  know  how  difficult  it  is  to 
root  that  out.  Is  it  some  unworthy  habitual  gratifica- 
tion of  the  senses  that  is  your  hindrance  ?  You  know  how 
difficult  it  is  to  get  rid  of  that  tyrannous  kind  of  occu- 


Many   Things,  But  Not  the  Thing  77 

pancy. 

But,  my  friends,  once  our  spirits  have  been  touched — 
even  ever  so  lightly — to  the  finer  issues  of  life,  the  very 
difficulty  of  the  w^ay  should  be  a  sort  of  allurement:  for 
surely  there  is  a  spark  of  the  heroic  in  every  human  heart. 
"It  is  a  calumny  on  men,"  says  Carlyle,  *'(it  is  a  calumny 
on  men)  to  say  that  they  are  roused  to  heroic  action  by 
ease,  hope  of  pleasure,  recompense — sugar  plums  of  any 
kind,  in  this  vv^orld  or  the  next!  In  the  meanest  mortal 
there  lies  something  nobler.  .  .  .  It  is  not  to  taste 
sweet  things,  but  to  do  noble  and  true  things  and  vindicate 
himself  under  God's  heaven  as  a  God-made  man,  that 
the  poorest  son  of  Adam  dimly  longs."  And  so  are  w^e 
not  really  anxious  in  our  heart  of  hearts  to  do  the  thing, 
v^^hen  we  know  what  it  is  and  how  to  do  it?  We  are 
told,  you  remember,  that  the  rich  young  ruler  ''went  away 
grieved"  from  his  interview  with  Christ.  And  so  I  be- 
lieve that,  in  most  cases,  the  individual  who  cannot  'screw 
his  courage  to  the  sticking-place'  and  renounce  his  fatal 
hindrance  is  sorry  for  himself. 

Anyhow,  the  first  step  is  to  know  precisely  what 
the  fatal  hindrance  is.  What  is  it  that  is  keeping  you 
from  being  what  you  might  be?  What  is  it  that  is  pre- 
venting you  realizing  yourself — in  the  best  sense  (the 
Christian  sense)  of  the  phrase?  What  is  it  that  comes 
between  CHRIST  and  you? —  And,  my  friends,  even 
in  the  best  men  and  women  there  is,  every  now  and  then, 
something  setting  itself  up  between  Christ  and  them. 

What  is  it,  then?  Be  definite  about  it.  Be  precise 
about  it.     No  use  just  saying,  in  a  general  way,  "O,  I 


78  The  Imperishable  Heart 

am  not  good  enough:  I  am  not  worthy;"  and  so  forth. 
Why  am  I  not?  In  what  precise  respect  am  I  not?  "When 
you  are  examining  yourself,"  says  Ruskin,  "never  call 
yourself  a  'sinner;'  that  is  very  cheap  abuse  and  utterly 
useless.  Call  yourself  a  liar,  a  coward,  a  sluggard,  a 
glutton,  etc.,  if  you  indeed  find  yourself  to  be  in  any  wise 
any  of  these."  Yes,  I  believe  that  for  every  man  in  this 
world  who  is  not  frank  with  his  fellow-mortals  there  are 
three  men  who  are  not  frank  with  themselves.  Some  men 
and  women,  I  tell  you,  have  to  take  hold  of  themselves 
far  more  frankly  and  firmly  and  fearlessly  than  they  have 
ever  yet  done. 

And,  mark  you  this:  it  may  not  be  something  which 
we  ought  to  'cut  out'  that  is  keeping  us  from  the  Best; 
it  may  be  something  which  we  ought  to  thrust  in  to  our 
experience.  Your  hindrance  may  just  be  that  you  are  not 
taking  hold  here  and  there  as  you  ought.  Indeed,  I  often 
think  that,  in  the  work  of  the  Kingdom  in  particular,  the 
greatest  hinderers  are  not  those  outside  who  scorn  and 
thwart,  but  those  inside  who  are  'shirkers'  and  'quit- 
ters.' You  know,  perhaps  the  most  solemn  word  of  con- 
demnation which  our  Saviour  ever  uttered  was  "Inasmuch 
as  ye  did  it  not*' 

But  now  some  one  says,  there  is  no  use  exhorting  me  to 
be  frank  with  myself :  there  is  no  call  for  a  peculiarly  keen 
self-analysis  on  my  part:  I  know  well  enough  what  my 
fatal  hindrance  is.  .  .  .  Very  well,  then:  the  next 
point  is.  Concentrate.  The  first  point  is,  Be  precise:  the 
next  is,  Concentrate  on  the  thing. 

This  is  an  age  of  specialization  and  concentration.     In 


Many   Things,  But  Not  the  Thing  79 

connection  with  this  process  and  with  that,  in  connection 
with  this  campaign  and  with  that,  we  insist  on  finding 
out  the  strategic  points,  and  concentrating  there.     .     . 

.  We  need  the  same  sort  of  thing  in  the  moral  and 
spiritual  sphere.  ''If  thy  right  hand  offend  thee,  cut  it 
ofi."  No  use  scratching  and  experimenting  over  the 
whole  body:  it  is  the  "right  hand"  that  must  go.  No  use 
'doing  many  things'  in  a  more  or  less  purposeless  and 
harmlessly  amiable  fashion:  it  is  the  thing  that  we  must 
tackle.  At  all  costs,  this  or  that  must  go.  At  all  costs, 
this  or  that  must  be  done.  "If  ye  know  these  things,"  says 
Christ,  "happy  are  ye  if  ye  do  them."  Yes,  and  ever- 
lastingly unhappy  if  we  don't! 

"He  did  many  things;"    but  not  the  thing! 

Sometimes,  friends,  the  thing  to  be  'done'  is  a  very 
big  thing:  amounting,  in  fact,  to  a  complete  change  of 
heart  and  mind  (what  the  New  Testament  calls  Con- 
version), a  complete  change  of  one's  view  of  life  and  of 
one's  attitude  towards  human-kind,  a  complete  re-direc- 
tion of  one's  life.  To  use  our  Lord's  own  forceful  figure, 
"Except  a  man  be  born  again,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom 
of  God."  As  the  author  of  "The  Inside  of  The  Cup" 
points  out  very  pithily,  that  may  sometimes  require  to 
be  said  to  the  Church  as  a  whole:  because  an  entire  In- 
stitution may  require  rebirth.  Anyhow  it  is  most  always 
requiring  to  be  said  to  individual  professing  disciples 
here  and  there.  And  certainly  it  is  always  requiring  to 
be  said  to  the  indifferent  man  of  the  world,  to  whom 
Gospel  principle  is  a  pet  aversion  and  the  Spirit  of  Christ 
an  entire  stranger. 


8o  The  Imperishable  Heart 

And  if  any  one  asks,  what  must  I  do  to  be  saved, — to 
be  saved  from  this  indifferentism,  from  this  selfishness, 
from  this  palling  unsatisfactoriness  of  life,  from  this 
thinking  and  planning  and  going  in  the  vv^rong  direction; 
the  answer  is,  Do  the  thing — "Believe  on  the  LORD 
JESUS  CHRIST,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved."  That  in- 
cludes everything,  both  the  One  Thing  and  the  "many 
things!" 


VIII 

SPOILED! 

"And  when    thou   art  spoiled,   what   wilt   thou    do?** — 
Jeremiah  IV,  30. 

T  T  is  the  nation  as  a  whole  that  the  Prophet  is  address- 
ing: using  the  singular  number — after  the  manner  of 
the  prophets.  He  is  forecasting  trouble, — dissolution  and 
shame.  He  is  telling  the  people  that  the  end  is  not  far 
away.  The  Chaldeans  will  come  ere  long,  and  remove 
the  Hebrews  from  their  place,  and  sack  the  city  of  their 
pride.  They  will  not  be  able  to  stand-up  against  the  in- 
vaders. They  will  succumb.  They  will  be  "spoiled." 
And  all  that,  largely  because  in  various  ways  they  have 
"spoiled"  themselves:  by  tampering  with  idolatry,  by 
dabbling-in  and  delighting-in  various  types  of  unrighteous- 
ness,— by  being  disloyal  to  God  and  unfaithful  to  their 
opportunities.  The  end  will  be  confusion  and  helpless- 
ness and  unvailing  remorse.  "And  when  thou  art  spoiled, 
what  wilt  thou  do?" 

I  need  scarcely  tell  you,  brethren,  that  the  Hebrews  of 
the  seventh  century  before  Christ  were  not  the  only  na- 
tion which  has  been  disloyal  to  God  and  false  to  con- 
science and  careless  of  its  opportunities,  and  which — in 
consequence — has  succumbed  before  the  persistence  of  a 
purer  and  more  progressive  people.  The  later  history 
of  Greece  and  the  still  later  history  of  Rome,  and  the 
still  later  history  of  Spain,  and  what  is  not  unlikely  to  be 

81 


82  The  Imperishable  Heart 

the  history  of  Mexico  all  tell  pretty  much  the  same  story. 
Disruption  following  upon  deterioration.  Spoliation  from 
the  outside  following  upon  self-spoliation.  Confusion  and 
helplessness  and  failure — due  largely  to  unpreparedness 
and  to  the  pollution  of  the  moral  and  spiritual  atmos- 
phere. 

And  today,  my  friends,  some  of  the  younger  Peoples 
of  the  earth  (younger,  I  mean,  in  respect  of  their  intel- 
lectual and  spiritual  awakening  and  in  respect  of  their 
baptism  of  modernity — Japan  for  instance), — today  some 
of  the  younger  Peoples  of  the  earth  are  watching  their 
chance.  They  are  watching  the  older  Peoples  of  the 
earth  (and,  mark  you,  in  respect  of  intellectual  and  spirit- 
ual privilege  this  Commonwealth  is  one  of  the  older  Peo- 
ples of  the  earth  after  all), — they  are  watching  the  older 
Peoples  of  the  earth,  to  have-at  their  inheritance  in  the 
event  of  their  losing  the  vision  and  becoming  supine  and 
secular  and  sordid.  .  .  .  For  there  is  such  a  thing  as 
a  false  security  There  is  such  a  thing  as  a  success  which 
softens  and  'spoils'  the  fibre  of  a  people. 

So  that  it  may  sometimes  have  to  be  said  of  a  whole 
Nation — as  is  said  in  the  Old  Testament  of  an  individual 
king, — "But  when  he  was  strong,  his  heart  was  lifted 
up   to  his   destruction." 

Yes,  the  very  security  and  success  of  a  People  may  be 
the  beginning  of  the  'spoiling'  process.  As  Browning 
says  in  his  'Paracelsus,' 

"You  will  find  all  you  seek,  and  perish  so." 
"Wherefore  let  him  that  thinketh  he  standeth  take  heed 
lest  he  fall."     For,   "when  thou  art  spoiled,  what  wilt 
thou   do?" 


spoiled  83 

And  then,  my  friends,  the  history  of  the  Christian 
Church  and  some  present  conditions  in  the  Christian 
Church  read  us  the  same  warning. 

If  men  and  women  are  not  already  demanding,  they 
will  very  soon  be  demanding,  their  rights  of  the  Church 
of  Christ.  They  will  ask  the  Church  to  do  for  them 
what  it  was  commissioned  to  do:  to  feed  their  souls,  to 
tell  them  "the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,"  to  give  them  au- 
thoritative moral  leading  and  effective  moral  dynamic. 

But  what  if  the  Church  of  Christ  is  allowing  herself 
to  be  "spoiled?"  What  if  she  has  ceased  to  "follow  the 
gleam,"  and  is  becoming  secularized?  What  if  she  is 
losing  the  breath  of  inspiration  and  the  note  of  authority, 
and  making  unworthy  compromises  with  the  time-spirit? 
What  if  a  chief  reason  why  so  many  intelligent  and  sin- 
cere people  sit  lightly  by  the  Church  these  days  is  that 
they  feel  the  Church  is  dabbling  in  too  many  projects 
and  not  concentrating  sufficiently  on  its  main  concern; 
that,  in  short,  it  is  not  distinctively  spiritual  in  its  ap- 
peals and  methods? 

I  say,  what  if  these  things  are  so! — and  there  is  no 
denying  they  are  partly  so.  Then,  'when  we  are  spoiled, 
what  shall  we  do,' — when  people  turn  to  us  and  look  to 
us,  and  say,  "Give  us  of  your  heavenly  wisdom:  feed  us 
with  the  bread  of  Life:  introduce  us  to  your  precious 
treasures :  bring  us — ^what  we  cannot  surely  find  elsewhere 
— the  touch  of  Christ,  the  healing  and  heartening  touch 
of  the  Saviour" ! 

Thank  God,  there  has  taken  place  within  the  Church, 
in  recent  years,  a  great  awakening  to  her  Social  respon- 
sibilities.    And,  thank  God,  I  seem  to  see  the  initial  trem- 


84  The  Imperishable  Heart 

bllngs  of  another  awakening  within  the  Church, — an 
awakening  to  her  Spiritual  responsibilities,  a  realizing  of 
her  unique  distinction  as  the  Christ-Bringer  to  human  life. 

But,  my  friends,  I  wish  to  apply  this  text  this  even- 
ing more  particularly  to  the  Individual  Human.  It  may 
be  so  applied  in  all  fairness.  Indeed,  it  is  searchingly  ap- 
plicable to  the  Individual  Life. —  "And  when  thou  art 
spoiled,  what  wilt  thou  do?" 

There  comes  a  time  in  every  man's  life  when  he  finds 
that  he  cannot  do  what  he  used  to  do.  He  cannot  walk 
quite  so  fast  or  so  far  as  he  could  ten  or  twenty  years 
ago.  He  cannot  see  quite  so  well.  He  cannot  work 
quite  so  long.  He  cannot  stand  late  hours  quite  so  well. 
And  in  a  dozen  different  ways  he  feels  that  the  wear  and 
tear  of  life — even  its  ordinary  and  honorable  wear  and 
tear — have  been  carrying  on  a  sort  of  'spoiling'  process; 
and  he  is  not  what  he  used  to  be.  .  .  .  It  makes  him 
think.  It  makes  him  take  a  sort  of  inventory  of  his  life. 
It  brings  him  to  size  himself  up  in  view  of  the  years  and 
the  tasks  that  lie  ahead.  And  even  if  he  is  honorably 
minded  to  wear  out  to  the  end,  instead  of  rusting  out,  as 
Kingsley  used  to  say;  yet  he  cannot  help  asking  himself, 
'When  I  am  spoiled  of  this  alacrity  and  that,  of  this 
capacity-for-work  and  that,  of  this  type  of  vigor  and  that, 
—  (when  I  am  spoiled)  what  shall  I  do?' 

And  then,  as  in  the  case  of  a  corporate  People — like 
the  ancient  Hebrews,  so  in  the  case  of  the  individual:  the 
'spoiling'  process  may  be  unnaturally  and  unnecessarily 
and   dishonorably  hastened  by  unrighteousness:   by  self- 


spoiled  85 

indulgence,  say.  Will  you  notice  how  the  prophet  here 
proceeds  to  illustrate  his  meaning  by  a  picture?  "And 
when  thou  art  spoiled,  what  wilt  thou  do  ?  Though  thou 
clothest  thyself  with  crimson,  though  thou  deckest  thee 
with  ornaments  of  gold,  though  thou  rentest  thy  face  with 
painting,  in  vain  shalt;  thou  make  thyself  fair;  thy  lovers 
will  despise  thee."  In  other  words  he  instances  the  ex- 
perience of  a  woman  who  has  spoiled  her  appearance  by 
lust,  and  who  tries  in  vain  to  restore  her  good  looks  by 
artificial  means  and  so  to  regain  the  blandishments  of  her 
beauty.     The  thing  is  hopeless.     The  glory  is  departed. 

And  there  is  a  somewhat  weird  and  awfully  impressive 
passage,  you  remember,  in  the  story  of  Samson,  where  we 
are  told  how,  having  fallen  into  a  deep  sleep  (presumably 
after  an  amorous  debauch),  he  was  shorn  of  his  hair,  and 
awoke  to  find  that  his  great  strength  was  gone. —  "And 
his  strength  went  from  him.  .  .  .  And  he  awoke  out 
of  his  sleep,  and  said,  I  will  go  out  as  at  other  times  be- 
fore, and  shake  myself.  And  he  wist  not  that  the  Lord 
was  departed  from  him". 

Ay,  some  people  seem  to  think  that  they  can  go  on  in 
evil  courses  ad  infinitum  with  impunity.  But  there  is  a 
day  of  reckoning.  "The  way  of  trangressors  is  hard." 
And  the  man  of  sordid  life  finds,  one  day,  that  he  is 
"spoiled."  "And  when  thou  art  spoiled,  what  wilt  thou 
do?" 

And  then,  sometimes  the  'spoiling'  process  is  hastened 
not  so  much  by  one's  'spoiling'  oneself  as  by  one's  being 
'spoiled.'  Some  boys  and  girls  are  so  pampered  in  early 
life,  so  little  disciplined,  and  so  much  encouraged  to  take 


86  The  Imperishable  Heart 

their  own  way  and  to  indulge  their  every  trivial  whim, — 
that,  when  they  come  to  face  the  world  and  to  take  their 
places  in  the  battle  of  life,  they  are  discovered  to  be  sadly 
lacking  in  pluck  and  grit  and  staying-power.  Will  you 
not  admit,  brethren,  that  that  sort  of  'spoiling'  process  has 
reached  the  stage — in  this  country  anyhow — of  being  al- 
most alarming?  Perhaps  the  parents  are  fully  more  to 
blame  than  the  children.  At  any  rate,  there  are  some 
young  people  I  know,  to  whom — in  presence  of  their 
parents — I  should  like  to  put  this  question,  "And  when 
thou  art  spoiled,  what  wilt  thou  do?" 

And  the  truth  is,  brethren,  the  question  of  our  text  may 
fairly  and  appropriately  be  asked  of  each  and  every  one 
of  us  at  the  close  of  the  several  periods  of  our  lives.  For, 
as  I  have  already  said,  there  is  a  'spoiling'  process  which 
is  natural  and  inevitable  and  not  to  be  called  dishonora- 
ble: I  mean,  of  course,  the  'spoiling' — or  taking  away — 
of  our  opportunities  stage  after  stage  of  life's  journey. 

Boy — Girl !  What  will  YOU  do,  when  the  scythe  of 
time  has  cut  away  the  opportunities  of  your  boyhood — 
your  girlhood:  when  your  school-days  are  past,  and  when 
— perhaps — ymi  have  gone  out  from  your  home  to  face 
the  world  alone?  In  other  words,  are  you  putting-in  all 
you  know  just  now,  are  you  making  all  you  can  of  those 
opportunities  which  are  yours  today — but  will  never  come 
again :  so  that,  when  the  next  stage  comes,  you  will  be 
ready?  .  .  .  O,  what  depth  of  meaning  there  is  in 
St.  Paul's  word,  "Behold,  now  is  the  accepted  time:  be- 
hold, now  is  the  day  of  salvation!"  Yes,  do  it  now:  do 
it  now.     Tomorrow  will  be  too  late  for  the  things  of 


spoiled  87 

today. 

Or,  you,  my  friend,  who  are  in  life's  mid-time:  bor- 
dering on  the  fifties  or  the  sixties,  say:  you  who  are — 
these  very  days — doing  the  work  of  your  life!  What 
will  YOU  do,  when,  in  the  course  of  nature,  you  shall  be 
past  your  best?  In  other  words,  are  you  allowing  the 
toil  and  turmoil  of  the  world  to  harden  you,  to  make  you 
now  such  that  you  will  be  blase  and  cynical  and  increas- 
ingly selfish  to  the  very  end?  Are  you  losing  the  vision, 
and  forgetting  to  pray  ?  .  .  .  Or,  are  you  being  chast- 
ened— day  by  day — into  a  deeper  trust  in  God,  and  into 
a  larger  and  more  alert  sympathy  with  your  fellowmen? 
Are  you  increasing  and  abounding  in  faith,  and  in  hope, 
and  in  prayerfulness  (because,  brethren,  we  need  more 
prayer  as  we  go  on,  not  less, — let  me  tell  you)  ? 

Do  you  remember  how  the  XCIst  Psalm  speaks  of  our 
being  delivered  from  "the  destruction  that  wasteth  at 
noon-day?"  Well,  it  has  been  supposed  by  many  that 
what  the  Psalmist  means  by  that  phrase  is  the  perils  of 
the  middle-aged,  the  soul-destroying  influences  of  the  heat 
and  haste  of  life's  noontide.  Anyhow,  we  know  what 
these  influences  are.  We  know  how  difficult  it  is — ^while 
mingling  with  the  world  in  the  course  of  our  life-tasks — 
(we  know  how  difllicult  it  is  )to  keep  our  ideals  high  and 
our  purposes  pure,  and  to  be  true  to  our  best  and  true  to 
Christ's  best.  But  we  know  that,  spite  of  the  difficulty, 
it  is  the  right  thing.  And  one  shudders  and  sickens  at 
the  discovery  (if  so  it  be)  that  one's  tastes  have  deterior- 
ated, that  one's  finer  touches  have  become  coarsened,  that 
one  has — somehow — gotten  out  of  sympathy  with  the  best 
things  and  is  no  longer  'coveting  earnestly  the  best  gifts.' 


88  The  Imperishable  Heart 

*'And  when  thou  art  spoiled,  what  wilt  thou  do?" 

Verily,  then,  my  friends,  WHAT  SHALL  WE  DO, 
'when  we  are  spoiled?'  'Spoiled,'  I  mean,  of  opportuni- 
ties which  we  have  failed  to  improve :  'spoiled,'  it  may  be, 
of  our  finer  sentiments  and  our  purer  purposes:  'spoiled,' 
it  may  be,  of  our  interest  in  Christ  and  our  enthusiasm 
for  Christ. 

What  shall  we  do, — indeed? 

Well,  in  the  last  analysis  there  is  but  one  thing  to  do: 
and  that,  with  all  humility  and  with  all  our  heart  and 
soul.  And  that  one  thing  is  this: — PRAY,  pray  these 
prayers  of  the  great  Book  here,  "Create  in  me  a  clean 
heart,  O  God;   and  renew  a  right  spirit  within  me.     . 

.     .     Restore  unto  me  the  joy  of  Thy  salvation.     . 

.  .  Search  me,  O  God,  and  know  my  heart ;  try  me, 
and  know  my  thoughts:  and  see  if  there  be  any  wicked 
way  in  me,  and  lead  me  in  the  way  everlasting." 

That  is  the  first  thing  to  do:  to  throw  ourselves  back 
on  God,  to  go  home  to  the  Father  again  in  Christ's 
company.     As  the  prophet  Isaiah  has  it,  "In  returning 

.     .     .     shall  ye  be  saved." 

But  let  us  not  forget  that  "God  helps  those  who  help 
themselves."  The  road  is  open,  thank  God !  But  neither 
God  nor  angel  nor  priest  nor  friend  can  do  the  stepping 
for  us :  we  have  to  use  our  own  limbs  for  the  walking.  And 
so  there  are  some  things  that  the  "spoiled"  souls  can  do  for 
themselves. 

They  can  take  themselves  in  hand.  They  can  look  the 
situation  square  in  the  face;  and  say.  Things  must  be 
different.  They  can  "cut  out"  this  and  that,  if  need 
be.     For  a  man  ought  to  be  lord  of  his  own  habits:  so 


spoiled  89 

that  he  can  say  unto  one,  Go,  and  it  goeth;  and  to 
another,  Come,  and  it  cometh. 

They  can  revise  their  companionships,  if  need  be.  For, 
although  some  people  are  thrown  in  our  way,  no  one  can 
dictate  to  us  who  are  to  be  our  boon  companions  and  our 
familiar  friends.  And  mark  you,  brethren,  for  the  soul's 
need  the  choice  of  a  friend  is  more  important  than  the 
choice  of  a  school  or  the  choice  of  a  profession. 

Then  the  ''spoiled"  souls  can  read  better  books  than 
they  have  been  reading  for  some  time.  They  can  go  back 
to  their  Bibles,  and  to  the  big  books  of  time:  those  books 
which  make  it  nearly  impossible  for  a  person  to  be  nar- 
row-minded, or  cynical,  or  worldly,  or  mawkish. 

Yes,  indeed,  there  are  all  sorts  of  chains,  besides  the 
gold  chain  of  Gospel  Grace,  by  which  we  can  bind  our- 
selves more  securely  to  the  best  things  and  so  "about  the 
feet  of  God." 

"And  when  thou  art  spoiled,  what  wilt  thou  do?" 
O,  my  friends,  the  pathos  and  the  pity  of  a  Wasted 
Life — of  a  "Spoiled"  Soul!  And  there  are  so  many:  some 
at  fifteen,  some  at  twenty-five,  some  at  forty-five,  and  so 
on.  The  thought  of  it  all  is  rather  crushing.  Without 
the  Gospel  of  Christ,  indeed,  the  thought  of  it  would  be 
unbearable.  But  here  there  is  Grace,  and  Promise,  and 
Renewal,  and  Hope. 

Yes,  thank  God,  the  'spoiling'  process  may  be  stayed 
and  in  part  reversed  and  the  vanquished  become  victor, 
and  the  "lost"  be  "saved,"— in  CHRIST. 
"Rock  of  ages,  cleft  for  me. 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  Thee." 


IX 

CHRISTIAN  COURTESY 
''Be  courteous"' — I  Peter  III,  8. 

TN   these  days  of  swift  and  strenuous  living  we  have 

lost,  in  large  degree,  some  of  the  gentler  arts  in  which 
our  forefathers  of — say — a  century  ago  excelled.  The 
use  of  the  telephone  is  apt  to  make  one  rather  curt,  and 
the  reign  of  the  automobile  has  somewhat  altered  our  code 
of  manners.  While  a  large  percentage  of  the  business 
letters  of  today — and  even  of  the  friendly  letters — con- 
tain innumerable  sentences  in  which  the  predicate  is  not 
furnished  with  a  subject.     And  so  forth. 

Our  excuse  is,  for  the  most  part,  that  we  haven't  time. 
But  after  all,  brethren,  manners  are  not  so  much  a  ques- 
tion of  time  as  a  question  of  taste.  And,  as  Emerson 
says,  "Life  is  not  so  short  but  that  there  is  always  time 
enough  for  courtesy." 

"Be  courteous,"  says  the  Book  here.  In  other  words, 
it  is  a  precept  prompted  and  authorized  by  the  Spirit  of 
CHRIST. 

We  are  accustomed  to  think — and  we  are  well  war- 
ranted in  thinking — that  Gospel  grace  has  to  do  chiefly 
with  the  inner  man,  with  the  "first  springs  of  thought 
and  will,"  with  the  heart.  Yes,  but  our  hearts'  afiFections 
and  impulses  are  bound  to  express  themselves.  Conse- 
quently we  may  surely  expect  that  whatever  affections 
and  impulses  have  been  touched  by  the  Spirit  of  Christ 
will  express  themselves  in  becoming  fashion. 

90 


Christian  Courtesy  9 1 

One's  manners,  then,  should  be  the  index  of  one's  char- 
acter. ''Manners  are  the  shadows  of  virtue,"  says  Sid- 
ney Smith.  Or,  as  Tennyson  puts  it  his  'Guinevere'  (and 
he  has  other  like  passages), 

"For  manners  are  not  idle,  but  the  fruit 
"Of  loyal  nature  and  of  noble  mind." 
Of  course  v^e  know  that  some  people  are  worse  than 
their  manners.  Out  of  compliment  to  goodness  they  put 
on  a  veneer  of  virtuous  manners, — while  all  the  time  they 
are  sneaks  or  scoundrels.  Yes,  as  Shakespeare  makes 
Hamlet  say, 

"One  may  smile,  and  smile,  and  be  a  villain." 
While  there  are  other  people  who  are  better  than 
their  manners.  They  have  an  awkward  and  unhappy 
knack  of  putting  their  worst  side  out.  We  may  take  it 
as  generally  true,  however,  that  a  good  man  will  have 
good  manners,  and  will  "be  courteous." 

It  is  a  most  unhappy  mistake  to  suppose  that  'piety  is 
an  enemy  to  courtesy.'  It  is  not:  it  is  its  'helper  and 
friend.'  No  doubt  many  incivilities  and  harshnesses  have 
been  perpetrated  in  the  name  of  Christian  rectitude  and 
Christian  witness-bearing  and  truth-at-any-cost,  and  so 
forth.  But  these  incivilities  and  harshnesses  cannot  have 
been  necessary ;  and  if  a  rude  rectitude  has  often  pre- 
vailed, it  has  prevailed  in  spite  of  its  rudeness — not  be- 
cause of  it. 

"The  style  is  the  man,"  is  a  favorite  saying  which  has 
come  down  from  antiquity. 

In  some  cases  the  manner  is  nearly  everything.  There 
have  been  individuals,  indeed,  who  have  made  great  im- 


92  The  Imperishable  Heart 

pressions  in  spite  of  their  awkward  methods.  Emerson, 
we  are  told,  often  stumbled  and  stuttered  in  the  delivery 
of  a  lecture,  and  lost  his  place  every  now  and  again.  Phil- 
lips Brooks  read  his  sermons  very  closely  and  very  rapidly 
— with  the  manuscript  usually  held  in  his  hand  almost 
up  to  his  eyes.  But  such  men  were  giants, — the  very  ex- 
ceptions that  prove  the  rule.  For  we  all  know  how  im- 
portant to  a  speaker  or  a  singer  a  pleasing  manner  is,  and 
how  important  style  is  to  one  who  is  making  literary  ven- 
tures. 

And  so  "virtue  itself"  is  apt  to  offend  "when  coupled 
with  forbidding  manners."  "Speaking  the  truth  in  love," 
says  St.  Paul,  you  remember,  in  one  place :  as  if  to  remind 
us  that  one  may  be  true,  and  yet  tender;  that  one  may  be 
courageous,  and  yet  courteous;  that  one  may  speak  one's 
mind,  and  yet  be  the  gentleman. 

But  do  not  let  us  imagine  that  Courtesy  is  wholly  an 
affair  of  manner — of  outward  demeanor.  It  must  be  in 
the  heart  first.  In  fact  the  word  translated  "courteous" 
here  means  literally  'friendly-minded.' 

Yes,  there  is  a  courtesy  of  inner  sentiment,  there  is 
courtesy  of  thought.  To  be  hospitable  to  our  finest  feel- 
ings, to  deal  politely  and  respectfully  with  the  best 
thoughts  which  visit  us,  to  adopt — in  our  own  inmost 
souls — a  sympathetic  and  brotherly  attitude  towards  our 
fellow-men  of  every  class  and  creed  and  clime :  and  so  on. 
That  is  to  ensure  an  unfailing  courtesy  in  our  daily  walk 
and  conversation. 

Yes,  it  must  be  in  the  heart  first.  And  so,  you  see, 
my  friends,  the  best  place  to  go  to  learn  good  manners  is 


Christian  Courtesy  93 

the  school  of  CHRIST. 

How  uniformly  courteous  HE  was!  Perhaps  we  do 
not  give  enough  attention  to  this  feature  of  His  character 
and  address.  He  is  never  expressly  called  "courteous"  by 
any  of  the  Evangelists;  but  it  is  abundantly  evident  that 
He  was  so.  Courteous  to  the  man  in  the  street,  as  well 
as  to  the  occupants  of  the  palace.  Courteous  to  Samari- 
tans and  Syrians  and  Greeks,  as  well  as  to  pure-blooded 
Hebrews.  Courteous  to  the  sinners  and  outcasts  among 
the  people,  as  well  as  to  the  clean-living  and  the  respecta- 
ble. Courteous  to  His  enemies,  as  well  as  to  His  friends. 
Courteous  to  His  disciples  when  they  were  hopelessly  mis- 
understanding Him,  as  well  as  when  they  caught  His 
meaning  in  the  flash  of  the  moment.  And  what  was  the 
sacrifice  on  Calvary  if  it  was  not  a  great  act  of  courtesy: 
an  unprecedented  exhibition  of  trust  in  human  kind,  of 
regard  for  the  deepest  cravings  and  the  purest  aspirations 
of  the  human  heart — however  encrusted  and  be-smeared  ? 

In  so  much  that  some  one  has  said,  'I  believe  from  my 
heart  that  no  one  lives  near  to  CHRIST,  no  one  follows 
Him  in  'lowliness,  patience,  and  charity,'  who  will  ever 
be  really  an  ill-behaved  man.  He  may  be  ignorant  of 
many  of  the  customs  of  what  is  called  'good  society,'  he 
may  not  be  what  the  world  calls  'refined;'  but  he  will 
never  be  coarse,  vulgar,  offensive." 

O,  my  friends,  we  do  not  require  to  study  hand-books 
on  the  usages  of  polite  society.  The  New  Testament  here 
is  a  sufficient  guide.  The  Spirit  of  Christ  will  teach  us 
infallibly  well.  For  "if  any  man  be  in  Christ,  he  is  a 
new  creature," — with 


94  The  Imperishable  Heart 

"nobler  modes  of  life, 
"With  sweeter  manners,  purer  laws." 

And  so,  you  see,  my  Friends,  as  followers  of  the  CHRIST, 
we  are  aiming  at  something  better  than  common  courtesy : 
we  are  aiming  at  Christian  courtesy. 

Common  courtesy  is  a  pleasing  thing  enough ;  but  gen- 
uine Christian  courtesy  is  a  bigger  thing  altogether, — 
broader  and  longer  and  deeper  and  higher. 

For  one  thing,  it  is  Positive.  It  knows  how  to  take  the 
initiative.  Some  people,  you  know,  who  cannot  be  ac- 
cused of  having  boorish  manners,  have  no  manners  at  all. 
They  seem  never  to  be  able  to  go  out  of  themselves  and  to 
create  an  atmosphere  of  welcome  and  good  cheer.  They 
never  meet  you  half-way, — let  alone  coming  to  you  all 
the  way.  But  the  Christ-filled  soul  is  not  content  with 
that  sort  of  thing.  He  seeks  people.  He  invites  people. 
He  brings  to  them  the  positive  touch  of  brotherly-kind- 
ness. And  the  weakness  of  the  weak  and  the  timidity  of 
the  timid  and  the  shamefacedness  of  the  shame-laden  make 
a  double  appeal  to  him.  So  that  in  the  name  of  Christ 
and  in  the  Spirit  of  Christ  he  makes  them  feel  at  home.  I 
sometimes  wish,  brethren,  that  we  had  a  little  more  of 
that  positive  Christian  courtesy  in  the  Church  itself:  for 
sometimes — even  there — it  is  conspicuous  by  its  absence, 
and  the  Church  is  the  last  place  where  some  people  are 
allowed  to  feel  at  home.  And,  mark  you  this:  don't  al- 
low the  minister  to  do  all  the  hand-shaking  and  all  the 
inviting, — you  should  be  able  to  do  it  far  less  profession- 
ally and  far  more  spontaneously  than  I  can. 

Then  again,  genuine  Christian  courtesy  is  a  thoroughly 


Christian  Courtesy  95 

Unselfish  thing.  We  are  often  pre-occupied,  we  are  often 
fatigued,  we  are  often  worried.  And  it  is  so  easy  to  be 
off-hand,  to  be  brusque,  to  be  nearly  rude  in  such  circum- 
stances. Well,  you  remember  of  an  occasion  when  Jesus 
was  exceeding  tired  and  craved  rest,  but  the  people  fol- 
lowed Him  in  throngs  and  waited  with  Him  so  long  that 
they,  in  turn,  were  weary  and  hungry.  What  did  the 
Master  do?  His  disciples  advised  Him  to  send  the  peo- 
ple away.  But  no — HE  would  not  do  that.  Instead, 
he  took  pains  to  feed  the  hungry  multiude, — doing  it,  too, 
methodically  and  more  than  sufficiently.  O  yes,  almost 
anyone  can  be  affable  and  cheerful  when  he  is  "feeling 
good:"  but  the  test  is  to  be  affable  and  cheerful  and  to 
inspire  others  to  the  same — when  one  is  "not  feeling  like 
it."  Let  us  never  forget,  my  friends,  that  JESUS  has 
come  into  this  world,  not  simply  to  coddle  and  flatter 
the  natural  man,  but  to  remake  him — to  make  him  a  new 
man — to  enable  him  to  do  by  grace  what  he  could  hardly 
hope  to  do  by  nature. 

Then,  what  about  courtesy  to  our  Opponents?  A  true 
sportsman  (in  athletic  circles)  shews  the  same  respect  to 
his  rivals  that  he  shews  to  the  members  of  his  own  team 
or  club.  When,  in  fact,  two  men  enter  the  ring  for  a 
prize-fight  or  a  wrestling  bout,  the  first  thing  they  do  is 
to  shake  hands.  Surely,  then,  the  disciple  of  Christ  is  not 
going  to  be  outdone  by  the  ordinary  athlete.  It  is  told 
that,  during  the  war  between  the  Greeks  (under  Alexan- 
der the  Great)  and  the  Persians  (under  Darius),  one  of 
the  Persian  soldiers  thought  to  ingratiate  himself  with  his 
general — Memnon  by  name — by  inveighing  with  all  his 
might  against  Alexander  the  Great.     Memnon  touched 


96  The  Imperishable  Heart 

the  soldier  with  his  spear,  and  said  to  him,  "Friend,  I  pay 
you  to  fight  against  Alexander,  not  to  revile  him."  Just 
so,  my  friends,  let  us  cultivate  the  courtesy  of  patriotism. 
Let  us  be  assured  that  "patriotism  is  not  Christian  unless 
it  is  sympathetic  and  fraternal."  In  other  words,  let  us 
bear  in  mind  that  the  Britisher  loves  his  country  as  the 
American  loves  his,  and  the  German  likewise,  and  the 
Japanese  likewise,  and  the  Mexican  likewise.  He  is  a 
poor  patriot  whose  patriotism  consists  in  assuming  that 
"all  other  nations"  but  his  own  "are  to  be  either  scoffed 
at  or  pitied."  By  the  imprimatur  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  we  are  all  'citizens  of  the  world,'  and  dare  not  be 
discourteous — even  in  warfare — to  any  one  of  the  great 
family  of  nations.  Indeed,  brethren,  when  the  Christian 
peoples  of  the  world  are  once  convinced  of  that,  as  they 
surely  will  be  ere  long,  war — like  witch-burning  and  sla- 
very— will  be  a  thing  of  the  past: 

"Till,  members  of  one  Body, 
Our  agony  shall  cease: 

Till  the  souls  that  sit  in  darkness 
Behold  the  Prince  of  Peace." 
Then,  what  about  courtesy  to  Strangers?  I  read  to 
you  this  evening  part  of  king  Solomon's  prayer  at  the 
dedication  of  the  Temple.  Did  you  notice  how,  after 
seeking  the  help  of  God — by  anticipation — for  individ- 
uals who  might  be  wronged  and  for  the  people  as  a 
whole  in  times  of  defeat  and  of  drought  and  of  pesti- 
lence, and  the  like,  he  suddenly  switches  off  (so  to  speak) 
and  remembers  the  stranger:  "Moreover  concerning  the 
stranger,  which  is  not  of  thy  people  Israel,  but  is  come 


Christian  Courtesy  97 

from  a  far  country,  ...  if  they  come  and  pray  in 
this  house;  then  hear  Thou  from  the  heavens,  even  from 
Thy  dwelling-place,  and  do  according  to  all  that  the 
stranger  calleth  to  Thee  for,"  and  so  on?  I  have  always 
been  greatly  touched  by  that  interlude  (as  one  might  call 
it) — that  interlude  in  behalf  of  the  stranger  in  Solomon's 
great  national  prayer.  And  surely,  my  friends,  in  this  Coun- 
try— of  all  countries — we  have  need  to  cultivate  Christian 
courtesy  towards  the  strangers.  There  are  three  ways  in 
which  we  may  deal  with  the  Immigrant.  We  may  shut 
the  gate  in  his  face,  and  tell  him  he  is  not  wanted.  Or 
we  may  leave  him  severely  alone,  and  let  him  muddle 
along  for  himself.  Or  we  may  receive  him  with  some- 
thing like  cordiality,  and  offer  him  a  good  education  and, 
if  possible,  a  Church  home.  Which  of  these  three  courses, 
think  you,  does  Christian  courtesy  suggest?  .  .  . 
And  there  is  another  type  of  stranger  in  this  Country, — 
the  descendants  of  men  and  women  who  were  brought 
across  the  sea  against  their  will — long  years  ago — in 
chains.  But  what  I  have  to  say  about  them  was  said 
for  me  years  ago  by  Daniel  Webster.  For  the  story  goes 
that  on  one  occasion,  as  Webster  was  walking  with  a 
friend  in  the  city  of  Washington,  a  colored  man — pass- 
ing— made  him  a  most  respectful  bow, — ^Webster  return- 
ing the  compliment  in  similar  fashion.  "Do  you  bow  so 
to  a  darkey?"  asked  his  friend.  "Certainly,"  replied  the 
statesman,  "would  you  have  me  outdone  in  politeness  by  a 
negro?" 

And  then,  my  friends,  let  us  never  omit  to  be  courteous 
to  the  Children.  Sometimes  they  seem,  in  their  froHc- 
someness,  to  be  independent  of  our  attention.     Sometimes 


98  The  Imperishable  Heart 

they  seem,  on  the  other  hand,  to  be  almost  embarrassed 
by  our  attention.  But  they  appreciate  it  all  the  same; 
and  we  cannot  be  too  kind  to  them.  Only,  let  it  not  be 
patronizing  kindness:  we  cannot  afford  to  patronize  the 
children, — we  must  respect  them.  I  fancy  many  of  you 
have  heard  how  Trebonius — Martin  Luther's  teacher — 
used  always  to  raise  his  hat  meaningfully  when  he  came 
into  his  class-room  (which  was  not  the  common  custom 
just  then  in  Germany).  When  asked  why  he  did  so,  he 
said,  "Who  can  tell  who  may  yet  rise  up  amongst  these 
youths?  There  may  be  among  them,  for  aught  we  know, 
learned  doctors,  sage  legislators,  nay,  princes  of  the  em- 
pire." He  was  not  far  mistaken,  indeed :  for  there — one 
of  the  little  lads — was  "the  monk  that  shook  the  world." 
And,  my  friends,  we  may  never  forget  that 
"A  little  child  the  Saviour  came, 
The  Mighty  God  was  still  His  name, 
And  angels  worshipped  as  He  lay 
The  seeming  infant  of  a  day." 
"Take  heed  that  ye  despise  not  one  of  these  little  ones." 
And  so  I  would  say,  last  of  all — and  in  just  a  very  few 
words,  let  us  be  always  courteous  to  CHRIST. 
We  may  have  our  various  opinions  as  to  the  Divinity 
of  Jesus,  .and  as  to  the  precise  significance  of  His  sacrificial 
death,  and  as  to  the  actuality  of  His  bodily  resurrection, 
and  so  forth.  And  we  do  not  all  love  the  Saviour  with 
the  same  intensity  or  with  the  same  intelligence.  But 
surely,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  we  are  going  to  treat  Him 
with  perfect  courtesy.  Surely  we  shall  give  Him  a  fair 
hearing  and  a  warm  welcome,  as  HE  pleads  with  us 
through  His  Word  and  by  His  Spirit,  and  do  no  violence 
to  His  sensitive  soul. 


X 

COMPLAINING 

''And  when  the  people  complained,  it  displeased  the  Lord/* 
— ^Joshua  XI,  i. 

TT  is  by  no  means  easy  for  us  today,  and  in  our  very 
different  circumstances,  to  understand  the  case  of  the 
Israelites  as  they  travelled  from  Egypt  to  Canaan,  to 
appreciate  their  somewhat  unusual  experiences  in  the 
course  of  that  wilderness  journey.  In  many  respects  they 
were  well  "guided"  and  well  "guarded"  and  well 
"graced :"  God  "fed  thee  with  manna,"  says  the  old  rec- 
ord in  another  place,  (God  "fed  thee  with  manna),     . 

.  .  Thy  raiment  waxed  not  old  upon  thee,  neither  did 
thy  foot  swell,  these  forty  years"  All  the  same  there  must 
have  been  not  a  few  hardships  and  not  a  few  discourage- 
ments. And  so  we  read  from  time  to  time,  in  the  record 
of  that  strange  journey,  of  "the  murmurings  of  the  chil- 
dren of  Israel,"  and  of  their  'complaining.'  And  it  is  ex- 
pressly said  here  that  "when  the  people  complained,  it  dis- 
pleased the  Lord:" 

'Complaining'  is  one  of  those  half-regrettable  preroga- 
tives of  human  nature.  It  is  remarkable  how  seldom  the 
lower  animals  'complain.'  A  lion  will  roar  and  spring 
and  tear  and  devour.  A  dog  will  growl  and  possibly  bite. 
A  horse  may  buck  or  kick.  But  it  is  simply  wonderful 
how  patient  and  uncomplaining,  after  all,  most  of  the 

99 


100  The  Imperishable  Heart 

lower  animals  are.  And,  strange  to  say,  those  of  them 
that  we  fetter  most  securely  and  use  most  unsparingly  ( the 
horse,  for  example)  are  the  most  patient  and  uncomplain- 
ing of  all.  It  has  been  largely  reserved  for  humans  to  do 
the  complaining  and.  In  consequence,  to  'displease  the 
LORD.'  And  some  of  us  are  experts  at  the  business, — 
.  .  ,  the  more  shame  to  us.  For,  among  the  "un- 
godly men"  against  whom  the  New  Testament — in  one 
part — inveighs,  there  are  mentioned  those  who  are  "mur- 
murers,  complainers,  walking  after  their  own  lusts:  and 
their  mouth  speaketh  great  swelling  words." 

"And  when  the  people  complained.  It  displeased  the 
Lord." 

Of  course  It  does  not  always  'displease  the  Lord'  when 
we  complain.     For  there  are  complaints  and  complaints. 

For  instance,  some  'complaints'  are  justifiable,  and  rea- 
sonable, and  useful.  Forceful  perhaps,  but  without  vio- 
lence: biting  perhaps,  but  without  bitterness.  Such  are 
our  righteous  protests  against  Iniquity, — against  dishonesty 
or  against  infidelity  or  against  Inhumanity  or  against  crass 
laziness,  and  the  like.  'Complainings'  of  that  type  are,  in 
many  cases,  the  Indispensable  preliminary  of  progress:  ac- 
cording to  Phillips  Brooks's  saying  that  "discontent  which 
has  an  Ideal  Is  progress." 

Then,  again,  there  are  some  'complaints'  which  are 
so  Innocently  natural  and  so  Intensely  human  and  so  in- 
tensely pathetic,  that,  far  from  'displeasing'  the  Father, 
they  appeal  to  His  compassion  and  to  His  "grace  to  help 
in  time  of  need."  When  the  stricken  soul  says.  In  the 
language  of  the  Psalms,  "Gjye  ear  to  my  prayer,  O  God ; 


Complaining  lOl 

*  .  .  attend  unto  me,  and  hear  me:  1  mourn  in  my 
complaint," — that  sort  of  thing  goes  to  the  heart  of  the 
Father;  because  that  sort  of  thing  is  prayer,  not  petu- 
lance. 

But,  my  friends,  after  all  has  been  said,  the  majority 
of  our  'complaints,'  our  "murmurings,"  our  querulous- 
nesses  are  'displeasing  to  the  Lord'  and  are  not  "ap- 
proved in  Christ."  In  point  of  fact  they  are  'displeasing' 
to  most  normal  humans :  because  they  are  more  or  less  un- 
reasonable, and  more  or  less  cowardly — unmanly  or  un- 
womanly. Yes,  'complaining'  displeases  sensible  and 
sanctified  humanity;  and  it  displeases  "the  Lord."  Why? 
Because  it  is  wrong,  because  it  is  discordant:  and  be- 
cause, therefore,  it  is  essentially  'displeasing.* 

There  are  some  people  who  'complain'  as  a  matter  of 
disposition  and  habit.  To  quote  the  Epistle  of  Jude  again, 
"These  are  murmurers,  complainers."  No  matter  how 
things  are,  they  will  find  something  to  grumble  at — some- 
thing to  "knock."  As  the  saying  goes,  they  will  'quarrel 
with  their  own  shadows'  if  there  is  nothing  else  to  quarrel 
with  or  to  kick  at. 

It  is  very  depressing.  It  is  very  aggravating.  But  there 
they  are — the  habitual  'complainers.'  And  'displeasing' — 
unpleasant — is  a  mild  word  for  it  all.  It  is  despicable,  as 
well  as  'displeasing ;'  and  damaging,  as  well  as  despicable. 
Remember,  my  friends,  when  it  is  said  of  any  kind  of  con- 
duct that  'it  displeases  the  Lord,'  that  means  something 
very  serious.     It  is  a  very  grave  condemnation. 

To  be  sure,  the  habitual  'complainers'  usually  tell  us — 
to   excuse  themselves — that   they  are  "built  that  way." 


lOi  The  Imperishable  Heart 

.  .  .  Brethren,  Jesus  Christ  never  asked  the  moral 
delinquents  whom  He  took  in  hand  whether  they  had 
been  "built  that  way."  He  simply  said,  "Repent:"  which 
word  means  (let  me  tell  you)  'Turn  around:  change  your 
mind,  and  change  your  life:  from  henceforth  be  different.' 
Of  course  He  offered  the  help  of  His  omnipotent  grace  to 
those  who  should  repent  .  .  .  It  is  all  very  well  for 
me  to  say,  in  explanation  of  some  innocent  habit  of  speech 
or  action,  that  I  suppose  I  was  "made  that  way."  But  to 
try  to  justify  my  moral  distortions  by  saying  any  such  thing 
would  be  to  deny  the  right  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ  to 
change  me  and  the  power  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ  to  keep 
me  changed. 

Then,  I  wish  to  say  that  there  are  some  things  that  we 
allow  ourselves — far  too  easily  allow  ourselves — to  'com- 
plain' of,  day  in  day  out.    Yet,  why  should  we? 

For  example,  why  'complain'  of  Sickness? 

I  presume  the  Christian  Scientist  would  say  that  sick- 
ness is  a  sort  of  illusion,  and  that  therefore  we  should  dis- 
illusionize ourselves  by  ignoring  it  and  rising  superior  to 
it.  Well,  there  is  a  hint  of  Christian  courage  and  Chris- 
tian confidence  in  that  attitude  to  the  "natural  shocks  that 
flesh  is  heir  to."  I  prefer,  however,  to  think  of  sickness 
as  a  very  real  thing,  but  an  enemy  to  human  health  and 
human  happiness;  and,  therefore,  a  thing  to  be  combated 
and  conquered — by  one  means  and  another.  What  then? 
Does  a  soldier  'complain'  of  the  superior  sharpness  of  his 
enemy's  bayonet  or  the  superior  power  of  his  guns?  Or, 
does  a  ball-player  'complain'  of  the  superior  skill  of  this 
and  that  member  of  the  rival  team  ?     Nay,  verily :  the  sol- 


Co  mplaining  1 03 

dier  or  the  ball-player  who  is  anything  of  a  sportsman 
wishes  to  win  handsomely,  wishes  to  win — if  it  may  be — 
against  heavy  odds.  Similarly,  my  friends,  if  there  is 
anything  of  the  sportsman  about  us,  we  shall  not  'com- 
plain' of  sickness — in  whatever  form  it  may  come:  we 
shall  try  to  play  a  winning  game.  And,  if  we  lose  fighting 
gamely,  we  shall  not  lose  at  all  in  God's  sight  or  in  our 
own  conscience's  sight.  I  was  referring  the  other  Sun- 
day to  Robertson  of  Brighton.  Well,  he  died  at  an  early 
age  of  a  very  serious  and  very  painful  malady.  Time  and 
again,  we  are  told,  when  the  pain  was  excruciating,  he 
would  clutch  something  or  grind  his  teeth  and  bite  his  lips : 
but  he  never  uttered  a  word  of  'complaint,'  except  perhaps 
to  say,  *'Just  leave  me  alone." 

Or,  again,  why  'complain'  of  the  Weather? 

Do  you  know,  to  my  mind  there  is  nothing  makes  a  per- 
son appear  so  utterly  puny  and  ridiculous  as  railing  at  the 
weather  and  calling  it  all  sorts  of  names  No  doubt  to 
the  farmer,  for  instance,  at  certain  seasons  of  the  year  the 
state  of  the  weather  is  everything.  But — to  say  the  least 
of  it — we  can't  alter  the  weather  by  grumbling  and  curs- 
ing. (I  am  not  prepared  to  assert  that  we  can  alter  the 
weather  by  praying  either:  but  prayer  is  more  likely  to 
avail  than  petulance).  Besides,  men  are  learning  as  time 
goes  on  to  ofEset,  to  some  extent,  the  damage  that  may 
be  done  by  excessive  drought  or  by  an  excessive  rain- 
fall: (if  you  don't  know  how,  ask  the  expert  agricultur- 
ists). There  is  a  famous  saying  of  John  Ruskin  to  the 
effect  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  "bad  weather" — only 
"different  kinds  of  good  weather."  And  doesn't  James 
Whitcomb  Riley  say, 


104  ^^^  Imperishable  Heart 

"It's  no  use  to  grumble  and  complain; 
It's  just  as  cheap  and  easy  to  rejoice: 
When  God  sorts  the  weather,  and  sends  rain, 
Why,  rain's  my  choice." 
And  here  is  another  wholesome  saying  that  I  came  across 
the  other  day,  "If  you  can't  sing  as  you  go  along  life's 
road,   don't  help   the  thunder  to  growl  and   drown  the 
other  fellow's  singing." 

Again,  why  'complain'  of  Other  Folks'  Prosperity  and 
Happiness  ?  Some  of  us  are  all  too  prone  to  do  that.  Per- 
haps we  envy  our  neighbors  their  prosperity  and  happi- 
.ess,  and  make  it  very  obvious  that  we  do.  Or  perhaps 
we  try  to  account  for  their  success  by  insinuating  that  it 
is  due  to  mere  good  luck,  or  even  to  trickery  and  crooked- 
ness. Well,  my  friends,  as  the  Scripture  says,  'Envy  is 
.  .  .  rottenness  of  the  bones"  and  it  "slayeth  the 
illy  one" :  and  insinuations  are  usually  rather  base 
a.ings.  Anyhow,  this  whole  attitude — this  "complaining" 
and  grudging  attitude — towards  other  people's  prosperity 
and  success  is  hopelessly  wrong  It  is  essentially  un-Chris- 
tian.  Are  we  not  told,  here,  to  "rejoice  with  them  that  do 
rejoice?"  It  may  be  a  difficult  thing  for  unsanctified  hu- 
manity to  do;  but  to  those  who  have  "the  mind  of 
Christ"  it  should  be  a  privilege  and  a  joy.  You  remem- 
ber how  John  the  Baptist  (noble  man  that  he  was:  to  my 
mind  one  of  the  very  finest  of  the  Men  of  the  Bible)  — 
you  remember  what  he  said,  and  the  magnificent  spirit 
of  it,  when  he  was  told  of  the  rising  popularity  of  Jesus: 
"He  that  hath  the  bride  is  the  bridegroom:  but  the  friend 
of  the  bridegroom,  which  standeth  and  heareth  him,  re- 
joiceth  greatly  because  of  the  bridegroom's  voice:  this  my 


Complaining  lo5 

joy  therefore  is  fulfilled.  HE  must  increase,  but  I  must 
decrease."  Splendidly  magnanimous,  thou  man  of  the 
desert ! 

Then,  once  more  I  will  say,  why  'complain'  of  Crit- 
icism ?  Most  of  us — especially  those  of  us  who  are  in  pub- 
lic positions — will  be  criticised  to  the  end  of  our  days. 
That  is  inevitable.  Sometimes  the  criticism  will  be  fair 
and  justifiable:  other  times,  unfair  and  unjustifiable.  Any 
way,  we  shall  not  help  matters  by  "complaining."  If 
the  criticism  is  unjust,  it  deserves  no  notice:  if  it  is  just, 
it  should  spur  a  fellow  on  to  improvement:  so  that  of 
Criticism  we  may  say,  'Either  ignore  it,  or  act  upon  it,' — 
but  do  not  'complain.'  It  is  related  of  a  singer  of  ancient 
Greece  that  when  once  he  was  told  that  the  very  boys 
laughed  at  his  singing,  he  simply  said,  "Ah,  then  I  must 
learn  to  sing  better."  And  it  is  related  of  the  great 
philosopher  Plato  that,  when  some  one  once  told  him  that 
he  had  many  enemies  who  spoke  much  ill  of  him,  his 
answer  was,  "It  is  no  matter;  I  shall  live  so  that  none  will 
believe  them."  Yes,  my  friends,  we  twentieth  century 
Christians  have  not  a  few  things  to  learn  from  the  moral 
and  spiritual  heroes  of  pre-Christian  times.     .     .     . 

Have  you  ever  noticed,  my  friends,  how  entirely  free 
from  ' co?nplaining'  JESUS  was — the  "Crystal  Christ?" 
There  is  no  passage  in  His  mortal  career  (so  far  as  we 
know  that  career:  and  you  may  be  sure  we  should  have 
had  the  flaws  pointed  out,  had  they  been  there) — there  is 
no  passage  in  His  mortal  career  to  which  the  word  petu- 
lance or  the  word  querulous  or  the  word  "complained" 
could  possibly  be  made  to  apply. 


iC)6  The  Imperishable  Heart 

We  read,  indeed,  of  His  being  hungry  and  thirsty  and 
weary;  and  of  His  being  "exceeding  sorrowful"  (no  won- 
der!) ;  and — once — of  His  being  **in  an  agony"  (no 
wonder!).  We  are  told,  too,  how  He  "marvelled"  at  hu- 
man unbelief  and  indifference.  We  are  told,  too,  how 
He  could  be  stolidly  silent  in  the  face  of  cross-questioning; 
before  Pilate,  for  instance.  Nay  more,  when  occasion 
warranted  it.  He  could  slash,  and  He  could  pierce  as  with 
rapier-thrusts,  the  sins  and  abuses  of  His  day;  especially 
the  sins  of  self-complacency  and  self-righteousness.  But, 
brethren,  in  the  life  of  JESUS  I  see  no  least  hint  of  'com- 
plaining:' no 

"lack  of  grace 
"Even  in  torture's  grasp,  or  sleep's,  or  death's." 
"O  perfect  Life  of  Love!" 

Suppose  we  ask  now — by  way  of  closing  our  meditation 
this  morning — (suppose  we  ask),  How  are  we  to  get  rid 
of  our  tendency  to  'complain?'  How  are  we  to  ap- 
proach nearer  and  nearer  to  the  "sweet  reasonableness"  of 
JESUS — to  His  crystal  courtesy  and  His  complaintless 
confidence  in  God  and  in  Himself  and  in  Humankind? 
HOW? 

Well,  here  are  four  points, — each  in  just  a  sentence  or 
two  (you  can  do  the  filling-in  for  yourselves). 

First,  then,  attend  to  your  health.  We  can  never  set 
too  much  store  by  the  healing  ministry  of  Jesus, 
and  His  Gospel  of  good  health  and  good  cheer.  I 
believe  dyspepsia  is  responsible  for  at  least  fifty  per 
cent,  of  humanity's  crankinesses  and  grumbles.  Some 
of  us  need — for  our  souls'  sakes — to  take  more  exercise, 


Complaining  I07 

or  to  keep  more  regular  hours,  or  to  pay  more  attention  to 
our  diet.  "A  man's  daily  meals,"  says  Dr.  Jowett,  "have 
vital  relationship  with  his  vision  of  the  Lord."  "Be- 
loved," says  a  New  Testament  Epistle,  "I  wish  above  all 
things  that  thou  mayest  prosper  and  be  in  health". 

Next, — Think  more  of  otherSj  and  less  of  yourself. 
'Complaining'  is  born  of  selfishness.  And  selfishness 
means  having  no  outlook,  having  no  wideness  of  horizon, 
having  no  regard  for  "the  things  of  others."  "Your  love," 
it  has  been  said,  "has  a  broken  wing,  if  it  cannot  fly 
across  the  sea."  Ay,  and  some  folks'  love  has  apparently 
both  wings  "broken ;"  for  it  cannot  fly  across  the  street — 
let  alone  the  sea.  And  then  we  know  the  standard  that 
Christ  proposes:  "kind"  even  "unto  the  unthankful  and 
the  evil."  "When  I  don't  like  folks,"  an  American 
authoress  makes  one  of  her  characters  say,  "(when  I 
don't  like  folks)  I  try  to  do  somethin'  nice  for  'em.  Seems 
like  that's  the  only  way  I  kin  weed  out  my  own  meanness." 

Next,  my  friends,  let  us  study  the  sublime  example  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Are  we  really  trying  to  pattern 
our  lives  after  His?  Or,  do  we  stop  at  admiring,  and 
'following  afar  off?'  That  wont  do:  we  must  take  Christ 
seriously.     "For  even  hereunto  were  ye  called :  CHRIST 

.  .  .  leaving  us  an  example,  that  we  should  follow 
His  steeps." 

And  next — and  last, — there  is  Prayer.  That  is  the  one 
answer  to  all  such  smart  and  self-complacent  and  hopeless 
sayings  as  "I  Can't  help  it:  I  was  built  that  way;" 
and,  "You  can't  teach  an  old  dog  new  tricks:"  and  the 
like.  I  say,  that  is  the  one  answer  to  all  such  sayings  and 
sentiments, — PRAYER.      Of  course  most  of  us  are  far, 


io6  The  Imperishable  Heart 

far  yet  from  "the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fulness  of 
Christ."  But,  how  are  we  to  get  there?  Only  by  the 
help  of  God's  grace  in  Christ.  Why  not,  then,  "pray 
without  ceasing"  for  the  increase  of  that  grace?  Yes,  in- 
deed, prayer  is  not  just  pouring  out  our  wants  before 
God:  rather  it  is  opening  our  hearts  to  the  Divine  influ- 
ences that  they  may  pour  in, — that  we  may  be  "filled  with 
all  the  fulness  of  God."  The  door  that  leads  to  the 
Throne  of  God  is  never  closed.  "To  your  knees,  O  ye 
Christians." 


XI 


WAS  EVER  ANYONE  DISAPPOINTED  IN 
JESUS? 

*'And  they  that  were  sent  went  their  way,  and  found  even 
as  He  had  said  unto  them." — Luke  XIX,  32. 

T    HAVE  read  to  you  this  evening  the  portion  of  the 

Gospel  record  in  which  the  words  of  our  text  occur; 
so  that  you  know  their  setting.  "Two  of  His  disciples" 
had  been  sent  by  Jesus  on  a  somewhat  quaint  errand, — 
with  explicit  instructions  and  with  an  unusually  detailed 
intimation  of  what  they  might  expect  to  find:  *'and  they 
that  were  sent  went  their  way,  and  found  even  as  He  had 
said  unto  them."  They  were  not  disappointed.  The 
Master's  words  came  true,  and  His  intimations  were  ful- 
filled with  amazing  accuracy. 

It  was  not  the  first  time  the  disciples  of  Jesus  had 
"found  even  as  He  had  said  unto  them:"  nor  was  it  to  be 
the  last  time.  And  so  elsewhere  in  the  New  Testament 
you  have  our  Lord  Jesus  described  as  "the  faithful  wit- 
ness" and  "He  that  is  true."  And  St.  Paul  says,  in  one 
place,   that  "all  the  promises  of  God  in   Him  are  Yea 

.     .     .     and  Amen." 

"And  they  .  .  .  found  even  as  He  had  said  unto 
them."  My  friends,  was  any  one  ever  disappointed  in 
JESUS  ?  Has  it  not  always  been  the  case  with  those  who 
have  trusted  Him  fully  and  loved  Him  fervently  and 
served  Him  faithfully,— has  it  not  always  been  the  case 

169 


no  The  Imperishable  Heart 

with  such  that  they  have  "found  even  as  He  had  said  unto 
them?"  I  have  yet  to  know  of  the  man  or  woman — 
given  fairmindedness  and  true-heartedness — (I  have  yet  to 
know  of  the  man  or  woman)  who  has  been  disappointed 
in  Jesus.  Or,  as  I  saw  it  remarked  the  other  day,  "The 
religion  of  Jesus  Christ  has  never  proved  a  failure  where 
it  was  fairly  tested."     .     .     . 

O,  you  may  have  been  disappointed,  perhaps,  in  one  or 
other  of  the  Christian  Doctrines.  It  may  have  been 
crudely  presented  to  you,  so  as  to  fail  to  appeal.  Or, 
however  presented,  it  may  have  seemed  to  you  remote 
from  common  life  and  inefficacious.  .  .  .  And,  in- 
deed, we  shall  do  well  to  be  disappointed — and  for  ever 
disappointed — with  some  dogmas  that  are  asserted  to  be 
fundamentally  Christian. 

Or,  you  may  have  been  disappointed  in  the  Church, — 
not  recognizing  in  it  "the  body  of  Christ"  in  anything 
like  soundness  of  health  or  beauty  of  proportion.  You 
may  have  been  disappointed  by  the  somewhat  worldly  at- 
mosphere of  the  Christian  Church ;  or  by  the  formality  or 
the  coldness  or  the  slackness  that  are  too  often  found  in  it. 

.  .  .  And,  indeed,  we  shall  do  well  to  be  disap- 
pointed— and  for  ever  disappointed — with  some  features 
of  modern  Church  activity, — and  inactivity. 

Or,  you  may  be  disappointed  with  the  results  of  the 
whole  Christian  propaganda, — as  if  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
were  not  'making  good,'  were  not  'coming  to  his  own' 
quickly  enough,  were  not  proving  w^orthy  of  the  name  said 
to  be  written  on  His  vesture — "King  of  kings,  and  Lord 
of  lords."  .  .  .  And,  indeed,  brethren,  we  shall  do 
well  to  be  disappointed — and  disappointed  every  day — 


Was  Ever  Any  One  Disappointed  in  Jesus?      1 1 1 

with  Results;  if  so  be  it  will  make  us  more  "fervent  in 
spirit"  and  more  alert  and  diligent  in  the  work  of  the 
Kingdom 

Or,  you  may  have  been  disappointed  in  individual  fol- 
lowers of  the  Christ  here  and  there:  disappointed  by  rea- 
son of  their  inconsistencies,  or  their  lack  of  zeal,  or  their 
woeful  want  of  loyalty  to  their  Church  and  to  their  com- 
rades in  Christ.  There  is  great  room,  indeed,  for  disap- 
pointment here, — for  chagrin, — for  deep  discouragement. 
Only,  in  all  this  connection  let  us  remember  the  Apostolic 
verse,  ''Brethren,  if  a  man  be  overtaken  in  a  fault,  ye 
which  are  spiritual,  restore  such  an  one  in  the  spirit  of 
meekness;   considering  thyself,  lest  thou  also  be  tempted." 

For — yes — you  may  have  been  disappointed  in  yourself: 
disappointed  because  of  the  meagreness  of  your  Christian 
achievement,  because  of  your  frequent  lack  of  courage  or 
of  charity,  because  of  the  immense  distance  between  your 
spiritual  stature  and  "the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the 
fulness  of  Christ." 

Yes,  in  scores  of  ways,  my  friends,  we  may  have  been 
disappointed  in  the  human  way  of  taking  Jesus,  in  the 
human  way  of  treating  Him  and  responding  to  His  claims, 
in  the  human  presentation  of  the  truth  of  the  Gospel  and 
the  spirit  of  the  Gospel.  But, — disappointed  in  JESUS 
Himself?  Never! —  "And  they  .  .  .  found  even 
as  He  had  said  unto  them." 

How  many  souls  can  bear  witness  that  JESUS  has  al- 
ways been  true  to  Himself  and  true  to  His  word, — and, 
so,  true  to  them!  This,  you  know,  is  Hallow-e'en, — to- 
morrow being  All  Saints  Day.     Just  think,  then,  of  the 


112  The  Imperishable  Heart 

tens  of  thousands  of  Jesus'  Friends  who  would  gladly — 
could  they  make  us  hear  them — testify  to  His  faith- 
fulness, to  His  absolute  reliability,  to  His  sure  ful- 
filment of  their  best  convictions  and  hopes.  When  the 
aged  and  saintly  Polycarp  of  Smyrna,  in  the  second  cen- 
tury, was  brought  before  the  Roman  Proconsul, — con- 
demned to  be  burnt  to  death  if  he  would  not  renounce 
the  Christian  faith,  the  Proconsul  said  to  him,  "Recant, 
and  I  will  set  thee  free.  Revile  Christ."  "Eighty  and 
six  years  have  I  served  Him,"  answered  the  martyr, 
"(eighty  and  six  years  have  I  served  Him),  and  He  has 
never  disappointed  me.  How  then  can  I  speak  evil  of 
my  King?"  And  I  Vv^as  reading  the  other  day  of  a  woman 
of  India,  named  Chundra  Lela,  whose  name  is  now  a 
household  word  among  the  Christians  of  India,  and  whose 
face,  by  the  way,  if  a  photograph  is  to  be  trusted  at  all,  rs 
a  study  in  quiet  and  confident  faith.  Chundra  Lela  was 
born  enormously  wealthy.  While  still  an  adherent  of 
Hinduism,  she  spent  practically  all  her  wealth  in  making 
long  and  hard  pilgrimages  to  various  shrines  "just  to  find 
God,"  as  she  said.  By  and  by  she  fell  in  with  the  Bible 
and  with  a  Christian  teacher  who  led  her  to  "find  God" 
indeed  through  Christ.  When  she  had  grown  old  in  years 
and  in  Christian  service,  it  was  arranged  that  a  small 
house  be  built  for  her  to  end  her  days  in  restfully.  When 
the  retired  spot  where  the  house  was  to  be  built  was 
pointed  out  to  her,  she  said,  "What!  away  off  in  this 
field?  Oh,  no!  If  you  will  build  me  a  house,  build  it 
en  the  roadside — close  up — so  that  when  I  am  too  old  and 
weak  to  walk,  I  may  crawl  up  to  the  door  and  preach 
to  the  people  as  they  pass  by."     It  was  so  ordered,  and  so 


Was  Ever  Any  One  Disappointed  in  Jesusf      113 

done;  and  as  long  as  Chundra  Lela  lived,  she  did  preach 
"the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ."  And  when,  a  few 
years  ago,  "the  door  into  the  Other  Room  opened"  for 
her,  "she  went  with  a  shining  face"  Was  that  woman  dis- 
appointed in  Jesus  ?  .  .  .  These  are  but  two  instances 
taken  at  random  from  totally  different  times.  And  you 
know  very  well,  my  friends,  that  they  could  be  multiplied 
by  a  hundred  many  times  over. 

Truly,  it  is  not  JESUS  who  disappoints  us:  it  is  you 
and  I  who  disappoint  ourselves — and  disappoint  Him.  It 
is  not  JESUS,  today,  who  is  disappointing  the  world:  it 
is  those  who  are  'crucifying  the  Son  of  God  afresh,  and 
putting  Him  to  an  open  shame,'  but  who — let  us  hope — 
"know  not  what  they  do." 

"And  they  that  were  sent  went  their  way,  and  found 
even  as  HE  had  said  unto  them." 

In  how  many  ways  we  'find  .  .  .  even  as  HE  has 
said !'  Not  that,  in  the  varying  and  succeeding  Christian 
centuries,  every  word  of  the  Master  has  been  literally 
and  actually  and  in  every  specific  instance  fulfilled.  But 
that  the  soul  of  His  teaching  is  always  true;  ay  and  not 
seldom  intimately  and  specifically  true. 

How  often,  for  instance,  we  'find'  and  feel  the  truth  of 
Christ's  words  when  He  states  some  vital  fact  of  the 
spiritual  world!  Such  as,  "No  man  can  serve  two  mas- 
ters;" or,  "A  man's  life  consisteth  not  in  the  abundance 
of  the  things  which  he  possesseth ;"  or,  "Except  a  man  be 
born  again,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God."  Why, 
brethren,  we  cannot  gainsay  such  words  as  these.  We 
cannot  get  back  of  them.     There  is  no  arguing  with  them. 


114  The  Imperishable  Heart 

We  know  that  they  are  true.  Every  one  of  us  who  thinks 
at  all  could  produce  dozens  of  instances  of  the  truth  of 
them.  No  wonder  we  read  that  HE  spoke  ''as  one  hav- 
ing authority." 

Then  sometimes,  again,  Christ's  words  are  pathetically 
and  bitterly  true;  and  we  'find  even  as  HE  says'  in  the 
pathos  and  bitterness  of  our  own  personal  experience  or  of 
the  general  human  situation.  For  example,  these  words 
to  His  disciples,  "In  the  world  ye  shall  have  tribulation." 
Or,  these  other  words  to  His  disciples,  "The  servant  is 
not  greater  than  his  lord  If  they  have  persecuted  Me, 
they  will  also  persecute  you ;  if  they  have  kept  My  saying, 
they  will  keep  yours  also."  Or  that  little  saying  of  His 
on  the  uncertainty  of  human  life  and  the  apparent  lack 
of  discrimination  on  the  part  of  the  Angel  of  Death, — 
"Then  shall  two  be  in  the  field;  the  one  shall  be  taken, 
and  the  other  left:"  what  commentaries  we  could  all  pro- 
duce on  these  never  so  simple  words !  Or,  in  the  light  of 
what  is  happening  these  days,  such  words  as  these, — "And 
ye  shall  hear  of  wars  and  rumors  of  wars:  .  .  .  for 
nation  shall  rise  against  nation,  and  kingdom  against  king- 
dom :  and  there  shall  be  famines,  and  pestilence,  and  earth- 
quakes, in  divers  places."  Truly,  my  friends,  Jesus  is  not 
dead :  He  spoke  but  yesterday,  and  He  is  speaking  again 
today.  "Today  if  ye  will  hear  His  voice,  harden  not  your 
heart." 

But,  to  come  right  back  to  our  text,  how  often  what 
JESUS  says  is  encouragingly  and  cheeringly  true! — 
"They  .  .  .  found  even  as  He  had  said  unto  them." 
These  men  were  sent  on  a  kindly,  albeit  on  what  must 
have  seemed  to  them  a  somewhat  doubtful,  errand  for  the 


Was  Ever  Any  One  Disappointed  in  Jesus?       115 

Master :  but  they  were  not  fooled.  Even  so  the  Master  is 
not  fooling  us  when  He  takes  the  deep  look  and  the  long 
look,  and  speaks  calmly  His  great  words  of  faith  and 
promise  and  encouragement.  How  many  of  them  there 
are!  "Heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away,  but  My  words 
shall  not  pass  away :"  "He  that  endureth  to  the  end  shall 
be  saved:"  "Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart;  for  they  shall 
see  God:"  "In  the  world  ye  shall  have  tribulation:  but 
be  of  good  cheer;  I  have  overcome  the  world:"  "And 
they  shall  come  from  the  east,  and  from  the  west,  and  from 
the  north,  and  from  the  south,  and  shall  sit  down  in  the 
kingdom  of  God."  What  heart  for  us  all  in  such  brave 
and  encouraging  and  far-visioned  words!  For  they  are 
true.  Any  single  one  of  them  you  can  substantiate  up  to 
the  hilt  from  the  testimony  of  Christian  experience  and 
the  witness  of  Christian  history. 

The  pity  is,  my  friends,  that  we  do  not  feed  on  what 
JESUS  says  far  more  than  we  do.  It  was  an  Oriental 
magnate — not  himself,  by  the  way,  a  professed  Christian 
— who  said  recently,  "Of  one  thing  I  am  convinced,  that, 
do  what  we  will,  oppose  it  as  we  may,  it  is  the  Christian 
Bible  that  will  sooner  or  later  work  out  the  regeneration  of 
our  land."  And,  surely,  if  the  Christian  Bible,  then,  in 
particular,  the  very  words  of  the  CHRIST  Himself.  You 
remember  how  He  remarked,  on  one  occasion,  "The  words 
that  I  speak  unto  you,  they  are  spirit,  and  they  are  life." 
O  yes,  we  should  not  be  nearly  so  "spirit"-less,  and  our 
better  feelings  and  our  better  purposes  would  not  be  so 
nearly  "dead,"  if  we  would  keep  in  closer  touch  with  what 
JESUS  says  and  try  to  get  to  the  heart  of  it  all. 


Il6  The  Imperishable  Heart 

And  then,  my  friends,  besides  the  sayings  and  senti- 
ments of  Jesus  recorded  for  us  in  this  great  Book,  there 
are,  as  I  have  already  assumed,  the  testimony  of  Christian 
experience  and  the  witness  of  Christian  history.  In  other 
words,  there  are  the  suggestions  and  the  successes  of  the 
Spirit  of  Christ  of  all  time  to  encourage  us,  to  assure  us 
that,  in  respect  of  our  highest  ideals  and  our  best  convic- 
tions and  our  holiest  purposes  and  our  most  unselfish  pro- 
jects, we  shall  not  be  fooled  nor  disappointed.  "And  they 
that  were  sent  went  their  way,  and  found  even  as  He 
had  said  unto  them."  There  are  half-a-dozen  words  in 
one  of  Emerson's  Essays  which  come  again  and  again 
to  my  mind:  they  are  these,  "Trust  the  instinct  to  the 
end."  Even  so,  my  friends,  if  the  Spirit  of  Christ  has 
taken  possession  of  you  in  any  degree  whatsoever,  then  He 
pleads  with  you,  from  time  to  time,  to  think  along  certain 
lines,  and  to  project  your  life  in  a  certain  direction,  and  to 
be  true  to  your  highest  aspirations :  and,  from  time  to  time, 
He  prompts  you  to  do  the  Christlike  thing.  Well,  the 
great  point  is  to  "trust"  these  pleadings  and  promptings 
"to  the  end."  No  matter  where  they  may  lead  you,  they 
are  infallibly  right,  and  you  will  'find  even  as  they  say.' 
O  yes,  men  have  been  misunderstood  for  obeying  the  plead- 
ings and  promptings  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ.  They  have 
been  persecuted  for  doing  so.  They  have  lost  "houses,  or 
brethren,  or  sisters,  or  father,  or  mother,  or  wife,  or  chil- 
dren, or  lands"  for  doing  so.  They  have  been  done  to 
death  for  doing  so.  But  they  have  never  been  fooled 
of  God  for  doing  so.  They  have  never  been  disappointed 
by  the  King  of  Truth — who  is  also  the  King  of  Love. 
You  remember  how  it  is  said  of  the  redeemed  in  glory  (it 


Was  Ever  Any  One  Disappointed  in  Jesus?       117 

is  in  the  Book  of  Revelation),  "And  they  shall  see  His 
face"  Why?  Because  they  have  seen  ''His  face"  all  the 
time.  Though  often  "mazed  w^ith  doubts  and  sick  with 
fears,"  and  though  often  fighting  their  w^ay  through  the 
fire  of  hate  and  the  smoke  of  opposition,  they  have  'seen 
His  Face' — His  smile  of  approval  and  good  cheer  and 
of  promised  v^^elcome  ...  —  "And  they  that  were 
sent  went  their  way,  and  found  even  as  He  had  said  unto 
them."  O  yes,  my  friends,  we  may  trust  HIM  to  the 
crack  of  doom.  He  will  not  disappoint  us.  Trust  that 
instinct  to  the  end. 

But  I  have  one  more  thing  to  say  before  I  finish  this 
evening.  Will  you  notice  how  it  says  that  "they  that 
were  sent  went  their  way,  and  found  even  as  He  had  said 
unto  them?" 

The  only  way  to  arrive  at  the  Truth  of  Christ  and  the 
satisfaction  of  the  Gospel  is  to  go :  they  "went  their  way, 
and  found."  In  the  spiritual  realm,  as  in  most  others, — 
but  supremely  in  the  spiritual  realm — Obedience  is  the 
way  to  Knowledge,  experiment  the  way  to  experience. 
Knowing  only  comes  by  Doing.  Hearsay  is  not  enough. 
Argument  is  only  of  limited  value.  And  you  can't  'go 
and  find'  by  proxy.  You  must  start  out,  and  keep  going, 
your  very  self.  A  general  cannot  hope  to  win  a  battle  by 
simply  drawing  a  map  and  studying  the  field  from  a  dist- 
ance and  counting  up  how  many  soldiers  he  has  in  bar- 
racks. He  and  his  men  must  get  there.  Precisely  so, 
brethren,  if  you  and  I  are  to  'find'  the  truth  of  what 
Jesus  says  and  what  Jesus  stands  for — if  we  are  ever  to 
know  the  inspiration  of  it  all  and  the  comfort  of  it  all, — 


Il8  The  Imperishable  Heart 

we  must,  like  these  two  loyal  disciples  of  old,  take  JESUS 
at  His  word  and  go  where  He  asks  us.  And  you  and  I 
know  pretty  well  just  what  that  means  in  our  several  ex- 
periences:    "Lord,  what  wilt  Thou  have  me  to  dof" 

O,  the  road  may  be  hard  at  times, — steep  and  stony  and 
stormy  and  dark — and  what  not.  But  the  end  is 
"righteousness,  and  peace,  and  joy,"  and  the  soul's  awak- 
ening, and  the  vision  of  God. 

And  remember,  brethren,  I  am  not  thinking  exclusively, 
by  any  means,  of  "righteousness,  and  peace,  and  joy"  and 
the  soul's  awakening  and  the  vision  of  God — up  yonder. 
We  may  experience  it  all  here  and  now :  if,  here  and  now, 
we  will  take  JESUS  at  His  Word,  and  go  where  He  asks 
us. 

"And  they  that  were  sent  went  their  way,  and  found 
even  as  HE  had  said  unto  them." 

It  is  always  so.  v 


XII 

DISTRACTIONS 

'*And  as  thy  servant  was  busy  here  and  there,  he  was 
gone." — I  Kings  XX,  40. 

HP  HE  circumstances  were  as  follows.  Benhadad,  the 
king  of  Syria,  had  made  a  double  attempt  to  put  the 
Israelites  to  shame  in  battle,  but  had  failed.  Ahab,  the 
king  of  Israel,  had  had  every  chance  to  make  Benhadad 
prisoner;  but,  in  an  injudicious  excess  of  soft-heartedness, 
he  had  let  him  go.  It  was  a  weak  stroke  on  Ahab's  part, 
and  a  wrong  stroke.  "Foolish  pity  spoils  the  city."  One 
of  the  prophets  of  Israel,  disguised,  meets  Ahab,  tells  him 
the  story  of  his  own  carelessness  in  allowing  a  prisoner  to 
escape,  and  thus  inveigles  Ahab  into  condemning  himself 
out  of  his  own  mouth. 

**As  thy  servant  was  busy  here  and  there,  he  was  gone." 
That  was  the  story  of  the  careless  guard  and  the  escaped 
prisoner.  It  was  really  also  the  story  of  Ahab's  careless- 
ness and  of  his  lost  opportunity. 

It  is  open  to  question  whether  the  prophet  was  stat- 
ing a  fact  or  merely  using  a  parable.  Anyhow,  the  appli- 
cation to  Ahab's  conduct  was  obvious.  And  it  seems  to 
me  that  the  story  or  parable  is,  in  many  respects,  applica- 
ble to  US — to  the  men  and  women  of  today  in  America. 

"And  as  thy  servant  was  busy  here  and  there,  he  was 
gone."  It  is  just  a  quiet,  but  pungent,  protest  against 
carelessness,  against  lack  of  concentration,  against  infidel- 

"9 


120  The  Imperishable  Heart 

ity  to  the  main  task.  Because  we  are  "busy  here  and 
there,"  and  NOT  ON  THE  JOB,  we  miss  ever  so  many 
of  the  most  precious  lessons  of  life,  and  let  go  ever  so  many 
of  the  most  blessed  opportunities  of  life,  and  fail  to  con- 
serve some  of  life's  most  strategic  and  important  conquests. 
We  allow  ourselves  to  be  turned  aside  from  the  Main 
Issue  by  preventible  distractions,  and — too  often — petty 
and  unworthy  distractions — "Busy  here  and  there." 

The  .truth  is,  in  almost  every  region  of  experience  there 
is  a  particular  moment  to  take  advantage  of:  a  particular 
thing  to  be  done,  at  a  particular  time,  in  a  particular  way. 
To  allow  oneself  to  be  distracted  at  the  critical  moment, 
instead  of  concentrating,  is  fatal. 

To  be  used  to  advantage,  fruit  must  be  pulled  neither 
too  soon  nor  too  late.  There  is  something  far  wrong 
when  the  farmer  neglects  his  apple-orchard  at  the  critical 
moment  and  allows  the  fruit  to  rot, — because  he  is  "busy 
here  and  there."  He  should  not  be  "here  and  there"  at 
all,  but  ON  THE  SPOT. 

Metals  in  fusion  must  be  taken  at  the  right  time,  if 
they  are  to  be  moulded  as  we  wish  them.  "Strike  while 
the  iron  is  hot." 

Similarly  there  are  certain  of  the  world's  harbors  which 
can  only  be  negotiated  by  large  vessels  at  high  tide. 

And  so,  doesn't  Shakespeare  say, 

"There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men 
"Which  taken  at  the  flood  leads  on  to  fortune; 
"Omitted,  all  the  voyage  of  their  life 
"Is  bound  in  shallows  and  in  miseries." 

I  knew  a  farmer  in  Scotland,  who  was  considerably 
criticised  for  one  thing  and  another  by  certain  narrow- 


Distractions  I2i 

minded  neighbors.  But  he  used  often  to  say  to  me, 
"Well,  I  may  be  this  and  I  may  be  that,  but  /'m  aye 
there  when  Fm  wanted'*  He  was  one  of  the  great  army 
of  the  RELIABLES. 

"And  as  thy  servant  was  busy  here  and  there,  he  was 
gone"  I  do  not  wish  to  suggest  that  we  should  be  narrow 
in  our  sympathies  and  exclusive  in  our  pursuits  As  a  rule, 
the  man  of  one  idea,  or  the  man  of  one  book,  or  the  man 
of  one  interest  (be  it  even  his  appointed  life-work)  is 
neither  specially  agreeable  nor  specially  useful.  Besides 
his  Vocation  in  life,  a  man  should,  if  possible,  have  his 
Avocation  (that  is,  some  pursuit  or  hobby  over  and  above 
his  usual  toil),  and  also  his  Vacation  (his  times  of  relax- 
ation and  recreation  and  mirth  and  merriment). 

Life  is  too  fair  and  too  rich,  and  has  too  many  facets, 
for  any  one  with  a  Soul  to  be  having  his  nose  perpetually 
at  the  grindstone.  Let  us,  indeed,  look  up  and  down  and 
hither  and  thither.  Let  us  cull  from  the  various  treas- 
uries that  we  have  access  to.  Let  us  get  all  we  can  of 
Instruction  and  of  wholesome  Amusement,  and  so  forth, 
out  of  life.  But,  "First  Things  First."  By  all  and 
every  means  let  us  not  neglect  the  MAIN  ISSUE.  The 
occasional  distractions  of  life  have  their  place  and  func- 
tion; just  as  the  centrifugal  forces  of  gravitation  have 
their  place  and  function.  But,  after  all,  the  centripetal 
forces  are  the  more  important ;  for  without  the  centripetal 
forces  this  earth  of  ours  would  not  hold  together  and 
would  not  keep  in  its  orbit  for  a  moment.  The  occa- 
sional distractions  of  life,  then,  have  their  place  and  func- 
tion;   but  the  great  thing  is  CONCENTRATION,— 


122  The  Imperishable  Heart 

especially  with  regard  to  one's  Appointed  Life  Work. 
No  man  has  ever  excelled  in  business,  no  man  has  ever 
excelled  as  an  artist  or  as  a  public  speaker,  w^ho  has  al- 
lowed himself  to  be  perpetually  "busy  here  and  there," 
instead  of  giving  his  thought  and  time  and  toil  to  the  main 
task. 

In  one  view^  of  it  the  Concentration  may  have  to  be  con- 
centration on  details:  as  w^hen  a  notable  artist  sat  for 
hours  throw^ing  pebbles  into  a  smooth  lake  of  water,  and 
watching,  in  order  that  he  might  be  perfectly  sure  of  the 
appearance  of  a  surface  of  water  when  so  disturbed. 

In  another  view  of  it  the  concentration  must  be  con- 
centration on  the  work  as  a  whole — and  the  progress  and 
issue  of  it.  In  which  case  it  is  in  the  way  of  becoming 
CONSECRATION. 

"And  whatsoever  ye  do,  do  heartily, — as  to  the  Lord, 
and  not  unto  men:  ...  for  ye  serve  the  Lord 
Christ." 

Brethren,  I  cannot  see  how  any  man  or  woman  who  has 
caught  the  CHRIST  CONCEPTION  OF  LIFE  can 
be  content  to  'putter'  through  life.  For  surely  the  Christ 
conception  of  life  means.  Get  Something  Done — some- 
thing substantial  and  worth  while  and  abiding. 

And  then,  if  I  do  not  wish  to  suggest  that  we  should  be 
narrow  and  exclusive,  neither  do  I  wish  to  suggest  that 
our  text  this  evening  is  a  protest  against  genuine  BUS-I- 
NESS.  "As  thy  servant  was  busy  here  and  there,  he  was 
gone." 

It  is  not  Industry,  it  is  not  Action,  it  is  not  Ambition, 
it  is  not  Push  that  is  reprehended  in  this  prophet's  para- 


Distractions  123 

ble.  What  is  reprehended  is  desultoriness  and  fidgeti- 
ness of  action. 

It  is  not,  so  to  speak,  the  steady  flow  of  the  river  that  is 
deprecated;  but  the  erratic  running  hither  and  thither  of 
the  quicksilver.  The  river  flov^s  within  bounds,  and  with 
a  sure  aim  and  purpose  The  quicksilver  is  of  little  use 
until  it  is  confined  and  kept  within  bounds.  It  requires 
to  be  concentrated. 

You  often  hear  people  say,  when  they  are  asked  to  do 
this  or  that,  '*0,  I  cannot:  I  am  too  busy."  The  truth 
being,  in  about  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  that  the  people  who 
say  so  are  under  an  unfortunate  delusion.  They  are  "too 
busy" — yes — in  the  sense  that  their  attentions  and  energies 
are  hopelessly  scattered:  they  are  not  "too  busy"  in  the 
sense  of  having  their  attentions  and  energies  too  closely 
centered  on  one  or  two  things  that  are  worth  while.  If 
they  were  less  scatteredly  "busy"  and  more  succinctly 
"busy,"  they  would  have  more  time  to  give  to  the  "things 
that  are  more  excellent." 

Oh,  my  friends,  how  much  we  need  the  adroit  and 
solemn  hint  of  this  little  Old  Testament  saying,  in  these 
very  days  of  ours  and  in  this  very  land.  I  need  it.  You 
need  it.  The  vast  majority  of  the  American  people,  if  I 
mistake  not,  need  it  badly. 

We  are  allowing  too  many  distractions  in  our  lives.  We 
have  too  many  side-tracks  to  our  main  track.  We  are  not 
concentrating  sufficiently  on  the  BIG  THINGS.  We 
are  for  ever  "busy  here  and  there,"  instead  of  keeping  eye 
and  mind  on  our  charge.  And,  year  after  year,  when  the 
sizing-up  times  come  round,  we  ask  ourselves,  with  a  be- 
wildered disappointment,  "What,  after  all,  have  we  gotten 


124  The  Imperishable  Heart 

DONE  during  the  year  that  is  past?" 

Just  yesterday  I  came  across  a  most  wholesome  article 
in  'The  Continent'  (one  of  our  best  religious  weeklies  in 
America).  The  article  is  entitled  'Finding  one's  own  task.* 
Here  are  some  of  the  opening  sentences, — "This  is  the 
day  of  breadth — and  thinness.  Never  before  were  so 
many  persons  interested  in  so  many  different  subjects.  The 
"well-rounded"  man's  life  is  often  a  disk  rather  than  a 
sphere  His  circumference  is  too  great  for  his  substance. 
He  is  obliged  to  read  many  books,  in  order  to  keep  up  with 
the  times;  and  consequently  he  is  not  the  master  of  any. 
A  score  of  social  reforms  demand  his  allegiance — and  none 
of  them  gets  his  real  service.  Cosmopolitan  and  modern 
the  alert  man  of  today  assuredly  is;  but  we  are  not  quite 
so  certain  about  his  effectiveness."  Then  the  writer  con- 
cludes his  article  by  saying  that  "every  Christian  should 
make  sure  that  he  has  some  one  particular  task  that  he  is 
going  to  do  regularly,  rain  or  shine,"  and  so  on. 

And  that,  my  friends,  is  pretty  much  what  I  wish  to  be 
at  tonight:  let  the  circumference  of  our  life — the  circum- 
ference of  our  interests — be  a  little  smaller,  and  let  the 
substance  be  somewhat  more  solid  and  more  relia- 
ble. In  Church  work  particularly,  I  should  say,  let  us 
find  our  proper  tasks:  then  let  us  get  down  to  our  tasks, 
and  stick  to  business.  "Patient  continuance  in  well-do- 
ing" is  one  of  the  great  needs  of  the  age, — in  the  Church 
and  out  of  it. 

Undoubtedly  we  are  the  losers  by  preventible  distrac- 
tions. Yes,  in  many  cases  (not  always,  by  any  means, 
but  in  many  cases)  the  distractions  are  preventible  They 
could  be  prevented,  many  times,  if  we  would  learn  to  say 


Distractions  125 

*No/  or  If  we  would  just  exercise  a  little  self-denial  in  this 
direction  and  in  that,  and  so  forth. 

The  whole  matter  resolves  itself  into  an  APPRECIA- 
TION of  VALUES. 

For  example,  do  we  sufficiently  appreciate  the  value  of 
little  things?  say,  little  portions  of  TIME? 

It  was  W.  E.  Channing  who  said,  "A  single  hour  In  the 
day,  steadily  given  to  the  study  of  some  interesting  subject, 
brings  unexpected  accumulations  of  knowledge."  A  few 
years  ago,  I  may  tell  you,  I  made  up  my  mind  to  read 
through  the  thirty-seven  Plays  of  Shakespeare  In  as  many 
weeks, — ^without.  If  possible,  'taking'  the  time  from  any- 
thing else.  I  did  it.  One  Play  a  week:  In  other  words, 
One  Act  each  day — Monday  to  Friday,  and  just  about  an 
average  of  twenty-five  minutes  to  each  Act.  Of  course  I 
did  not  study  the  Plays  minutely;  but  I  read  deliberately 
every  word,  and  read  more  than  once  some  of  the  more  Im- 
pressive passages:  and  I  seemed  to  have  time  for  every- 
thing else  as  usual.  It  was  a  most  enriching  experience: 
and  I  am  doing  It  again  this  winter.  It  Is  simply  marvel- 
lous how  much  can  be  done  In,  a  little  time  by  concen- 
trating. 

By  reading  Three  Chapters  a  day,  or  One  Book  a  week, 
you  will  read  the  whole  Bible  through  In  a  trifle  over  a 
year, — at  an  average  expenditure  of  time  of  not  more  than 
fifteen  minutes  a  day.  But  we  are  so  "busy  here  and 
there"  that  we  'haven't  time'  for  such  achievements.  O, 
my  friends.  If  there  Is  one  thing  I  try  to  say  as  seldom  as 
possible,  it  is  *'I  haven't  time."  Because  so  often  when  that 
is  said  by  people,  it  Is  just  nonsense — based  upon  a  pitiable 


126  The  Imperishable  Heart 

delusion.  Why!  in  most  instances  we  may  have  time 
if  we  will  make  time.  We  should  always  have  time 
for  the  large  and  lustrous  things  of  life, — the  "things  that 
are  more  excellent."  .  .  .  And,  if  some  persons  really 
have  no  time  for  soul-culture,  because  their  work-hours — 
in  store  or  elsewhere — are  ridiculously  long,  then  there  is 
something  wrong  somewhere.  It  is  simply  not  right  to 
ask  anyone  to  work  at  the  same  narrow  job  from  eight 
o'clock  in  the  morning  till  nine  or  ten  at  night;  no  mat 
ter  what  wages  he  is  offered.  It  is  not  a  question  ol 
wages:  it  is  a  question  of  human  right  and  human  need,  a 
question  of  mental  and  spiritual  opportunity. 

Then,  do  we  sufficiently  appreciate  the  value  of  PUNC- 
TUALITY and  ORDERLINESS? 

Many  a  man  who  might  have  done  big  things  in  this 
world  has  remained  a  mediocrity,  because  of  his  unpunc- 
tuality.  Again  and  again  he  has  been  "too  late"  to  "take 
occasion  by  the  hand." 

Besides,  unpunctuality  is  a  sort  of  social  sin.  There 
is  nothing  that  so  throws  a  whole  company  of  people 
out  of  the  full  enjoyment  of  some  hour  of  instruction  or 
some  hour  of  pleasure.  Shakespeare  makes  one  of  his 
characters  say,  "I'll  rather  be  unmannerly  than  trouble- 
some." But  the  truth  is  that,  in  most  instances,  the 
individual  who  is  unpunctual  without  apology  is  both 
"unmannerly"  and  "troublesome." 

So  that  both  from  a  selfish  point  of  view  and  from  an 
unselfish  point  of  view,  the  maxim  holds,  "Be  scru- 
pulously punctual."  And  in  these  days  of  a  multitude  of 
interests  and  a  multitude  of  engagements.  Orderliness  Is 
well    worth    cultivating.     You    remember   how   an    Old 


Distractions  127 

Testament  prophet  says  In  one  place,  "In  quietness 
and  In  confidence  shall  be  your  strength."  Yes,  for  mental 
clarity  and  uplift,  and  for  the  soul's  good,  we  need  much 
of  "quietness  and  confidence."  Well,  a  man  who  led  a 
very  active  and  closely  packed  life  once  said  that  he 
managed  to  "preserve  a  certain  quietness  of  mind"  among 
all  his  multifarious  engagements,  because  (he  said)  "I 
take  up  one  thing  In  order  after  another,"  and  "I  try  to 
fix  my  whole  thoughts  upon  the  one  thing  that  lies  be- 
fore me,  as  If  I  had  nothing  else  to  attend  to."  Ah,  If  we 
could  manage  that  sort  of  thing,  what  a  blessing  It  would 
be  to  us:  not  only  in  the  daily  round,  but  also  in  Prayer, 
and  in  Hours  of  Christian  Worship,  and  in  our  times  of 
holding  communion  with  the  Master  Spirits  of  Humanity 
In  the  great  Books  of  the  ages!  Yes,  indeed,  "a  certain 
quietness  of  mind"  Is  necessary  to  the  most  successful  and 
abiding  work,  and  to  the  most  devout  and  life-fashioning 
worship. 

And  is  that  not  one  of  the  chief  values  of  our  Sab- 
bath Rest  and  Sabbath  Opportunity? — one  of  the  chief 
values  of  our  'assembling  ourselves  together'  In  Christian 
fellowship  and  prayer? — that  we  get  time  to  cultivate 
"quietness  of  mind,"  to  bring  order  again  out  of  confusion 
and  to  bring  peace  where  there  was  so  much  of  turmoil. 
Thank  God  for  the  Gift  of  the  REST  DAY,  when  our 
SOULS  get  a  chance. 

"Thou  art  a  port  protected 
"From  storms  that  round  us  rise." 

Now,  brethren,  I  feel  that  I  am  only  managing  to 
touch  the  fringe  of  this  subject  tonight.     It  Is  a  subject 


128  The  Imperishable  Heart 

that  is  both  wide  and  deep;  and  I  might  say  ever  so 
much  more.  But  I  am  going  to  close  with  but  one  other 
thought. 

"And  as  thy  servant  was  busy  here  and  there,  he  was 
gone."  There  is  one  great  and  blessed  Experience  of 
life — One  Sublime  Friendship — which  many  men  and 
women  are  missing  because  they  are  so  "busy  here  and 
there," — because  they  never  stop  to  think  and  feel  and 
to  receive  God's  Best.  Time  and  again  JESUS  comes 
and  stands  by  us,  and  waits :  but  we  are  so  occupied  with 
the  "things"  of  this  world,  that  He  has  to  pass  on.  We 
are  "busy  here  and  there,"  and  'He  is  gone.'  There  HE 
stands, — the  Good  and  Gentle  and  Gracious  and  Grand 
CHRIST.  He  might  shout  and  hammer  at  us,  until  we 
simply  had  to  stop  our  petty  and  greedy  bus-i-ness.  But 
that  is  not  His  way.  He  is  too  courteous  for  that — too 
gentlemanly.  Besides,  He  does  not  wish  to  be  where  He 
is  not  wanted.  None  the  less.  He  is  eager — indescribably 
eager — to  make  His  abode  with  us. 

There  HE  stands, — the  Good  and  Gentle  and  Gracious 
and  Grand  CHRIST!  "Is  it  nothing  to  you,  all  ye  that 
pass  by?  O,  surely  we  are  not  too  "busy"  to  consider 
this  unique  offer  of  Friendship. 


XIII 

HINDERERS 

"Deliver  me  from  the  oppression  of  man :  so  will  I  keep 
Thy  precepts/'— ?SAhM  CXIX,  134. 

44/^  HOW  I  love  Thy  law!"  Such  is  the  chief  and 
continuing  theme  of  this  long  Psalm:  the  love  of 
God's  will  and  of  God's  ways. 

Clearly,  therefore,  the  Psalmist  cannot  mean  in  this 
verse,  that  he  will  not  'keep  God's  precepts'  unless  he  is 
'delivered  from  the  oppression  of  man.'  He  will  'keep 
God's  precepts'  anyway.  But  he  wants  to  keep  them 
well.  He  wants  to  "run  the  way  of  God's  command- 
ments," as  he  says  elsewhere.  Consequently  he  is  anxious 
that  all  handicaps  and  hindrances  be  removed, — especially 
all  such  discouragements  and  thwartings  and  stumbling- 
blocks  as  are  being  put  in  his  way  from  time  to  time  by 
one  and  another  of  his  fellow-mortals.  "Deliver  me  from 
the  oppression  of  man :  so  will  I  keep  Thy  precepts." 

O  yes,  we  may  be  willing,  and  we  may  have  sincerity 
and  pluck  enough,  to  serve  God  in  "bonds  and  afflictions ' 
(to  use  St.  Paul's  phrase).  We  may  be  determined  to  be 
true  to  our  best  selves  in  face  of  human  interference  and 
human  opposition — of  whatever  sort.  But,  as  these  things 
are  discouragements  and  drags,  we  should  like,  if  it  be 
possible,  to  have  them  removed;  so  that  our  pace  may  be 
a  little  swifter  and  our  breathing  a  little  freer.  "De- 
liver me  from  the  oppression  of  man :  so  will  I  keep  Thy 

129 


130  The  Imperishable  Heart 

precepts." 

There  are  various  kinds  of  hindrances  to  our  'keeping 
God's  precepts'  well, — to  our  keeping  them  regularly  and 
surely  and  with  alacrity. 

Why  is  it  that  so  many  people  are  not  nearly  so  good 
as  they  might  be;  not  nearly  so  good  as  they  desire  and 
aspire  to  be — many  of  them?  Why  is  it  that  so  many 
really  religious  people  are  weak  on  the  side  of  practical 
righteousness  and  usefulness  of  life?  Why  is  it  that  so 
many  professing  disciples  of  Christ  (true  enough  at  heart, 
many  of  them)  are  showing  themselves  petulant  and  irrit- 
able, and  too  easily  giving  way  to  impulse,  and  apparently 
indifferent  and  hang-back  in  the  work  of  the  Kingdom  ? 

Why  is  it?  Chiefly  because  of  the  hindrances,  because 
of  the  stumbling-blocks  (or  ''offences,"  as  the  New  Testa- 
ment calls  them)  which  lie  in  their  way,  and  which  dis- 
tract their  attention  and  give  them  many  a  nasty  jar,  and 
are  like  to  take  the  heart  out  of  them. 

Now  the  hindrances  are  of  various  kinds. 

Some  of  them  are  within  ourselves.  To  many  people 
ill-health  is  a  hindrance,  and  accounts  for  not  a  little 
moral  vacillation  and  moral  failure.  Then  some  people 
seem  to  have  been  born  with  certain  twists  of  temperament, 
which  make  it  almost  impossible  for  them,  in  their  own 
strength,  to  rise  to  the  serene  heights  of  Christian  cheer- 
fulness and  Christian  charity.  Others,  again,  are  the 
victims  of  inordinate  and  unlovely  appetites,  which  se- 
duce them  from  following  after  "whatsoever  things  are 
pure"  and  "whatsoever  things  are  lovely."  And  there 
are  the  demons  of  pride  and  self-complacency  and  stub- 
bornness  and   niggardliness,   and   the   whole   bad   brood, 


Hinder  ers  131 

— spectres  and  snares  within  ourselves. 

But  there  are  also  external  hindrances, — thwartlngs 
and  stumbling-blocks  outwith  ourselves.  Climatic  con- 
ditions, for  example,  may  explain,  to  some  extent,  the  mor- 
al and  spiritual  tone  of  a  community.  The  sanitary  con- 
dition— and  the  hygienic  conditions  generally — of  a  dis- 
trict may,  to  a  large  extent,  account  for  God's  'precepts* 
not  being  'kept'  there.  Even  the  proper  lighting  of  a  city's 
streets  by  night  has  been  show^n,  in  some  instances,  to 
have  improved  the  morals  of  the  place.  And  then,  there 
are  the  various  "slings  and  arrows  of  outrageous  fortune" 
(as  Shakespeare  phrases  it):  business  reverses;  financial 
embarrassments;  the  sicknesses  and  hurts  and  depressions 
of  our  dear  ones, — wounding  our  spirits  as  well  as  theirs ; 
and  the  grim  visits  of  Death, — cutting  of¥  from  us,  some- 
times, the  most  helpful  and  uplifting  of  our  Companions 
of  the  Way.  These  all — spectres  and  snares  outside  of 
ourselves:  determined  and  brought  to  pass,  for  the  most 
part,  by  our  environment  and  by  the  play  of  Circum- 
stance. 

But,  brethren,  of  the  outward  hindrances  to  moral  and 
spiritual  progress  the  worst,  by  a  long  way,  are  those 
which  come  from  what  the  Psalmist  here  comprehensively 
calls  "the  oppression  of  man," — the  various  thoughtless- 
nesses and  follies  and  selfishnesses  and  wickednesses  of 
our  fellow-mortals:  deliberate  or  otherwise:  expressly  di- 
rected against  us,  or — at  least — whose  mischievous  impact 
we  are  bound  to  feel.  "Deliver  me  from  the  oppression 
of  man:  so  will  I  keep  Thy  precepts." 

Unfortunately  (yet,  perhaps,  fortunately-— for  out  en- 
couragement) Scripture  has  to  take  frank  account  of  this 


132  The  Imperishable  Heart 

type  of  hindrance  to  achievement  in  righteousness.  In  this 
Book  of  Psalms,  for  instance,  (this  incomparable  Book  of 
the  Soul)  you  have  such  sayings  as  these: — "O  God,  the 
proud  are  risen  up  against  me;"  ''Let  them  be  ashamed 
and  confounded  together  that  seek  after  my  soul  to  des- 
troy it;"  "He  remembered  not  to  show  mercy,  but  per- 
secuted the  poor  and  needy  man,  that  he  might  even  slay 
the  broken  in  heart;"  "Our  soul  is  exceedingly  filled  with 
the  scorning  of  those  that  are  at  ease,  and  with  the  con- 
tempt of  the  proud;"  "Hide  me  from  the  secret  counsel 
of  the  wicked;  from  the  insurrection  of  the  workers  of 
iniquity:  who  whet  their  tongue  like  a  sword,  and  bend 
their  bows  to  shoot  their  arrows — even  bitter  words." 
Then  you  remember  how,  in  one  place,  Paul  asks  to  be 
delivered  from  "unreasonable  and  wicked  men."  And 
could  anything  be  more  solemn,  could  anything  be  more 
scathing, —  (and  you  may  be  sure  it  was  only  said  because 
it  needed  to  be  said:  and  it  needs  to  be  said  still) — could 
anything  be  more  awfully  solemn  than  our  Saviour's 
words,  "It  is  impossible  but  that  offences  (hindrances) 
will  come:  but  woe  unto  him  through  whom  they  come! 
It  were  better  for  him  that  a  millstone  were  hanged  about 
his  neck,  and  he  cast  into  the  sea" ! 

Well,  my  friends,  this  moral  and  spiritual  discourage- 
ment which  arises  from  "the  oppression  of  man"  is  the  very 
worst  kind  of  hindrance  which  ever  gets  in  our  way.  And 
that,  because  it  is  so  wholly  out  of  harmony  with  the 
human  function. 

"Life,"  it  has  been  said,  "is  either  a  neighborhood  or  a 
jungle."  That  is  to  say,  either  a  neighborhood, — where 
all  is  peace  and  kindness  and  mutual  helpfulness;    or  a 


Hinderers  1 33 

jungle, — ^where  all  is  ferocity  and  greed  and  rapine  and 
bloodshed.  Well,  clearly,  life  is  not  meant  to  be  a  jungle: 
it  is  meant  to  be  a  neighborhood.  "For  none  of  us  liveth 
to  himself,"  says  the  New  Testament;  and  again,  "Bear 
ye  one  another's  burdens,  and  so  fulfill  the  law  of  Christ." 
Yes,  we  are  "born  to  do  benefits:"  to  help  one  another, 
not  to  hinder  and  harass  one  another:  not  to  perplex  and 
poison  and  plunder  one  another,  but  to  "dwell  together 
in  unity:"  'considering  one  another,  and  provoking  unto 
love  and  to  good  works,' — as  neighbors,  as  brothers  and 
sisters  in  the  One  Family  of  God.  And  so  "the  oppres- 
sion of  man,"  preventing  this  neighborhood-way-of-life  and 
suggesting  and  encouraging  the  jungle-way-of-life,  is 
simply  awful;  because  it  is  so  horribly  out  of  tune  with 
God's  purposes  for  Humanity.     .     .     . 

Suppose  we  ask,  then, — in  order  to  be  on  our  guard, 
and  in  order  to  avoid  them  or  at  least  to  know  how  to 
deal  with  them, —  (suppose  we  ask),  what  forms  does  "the 
oppression  of  man"  assume? 

Sometimes  it  assumes  a  Corporate  form, — organized, 
systematic,  armed  cap-a-pie. 

The  Liquor  Traffic,  for  example,  and  the  White-Slave 
Traffic,  as  exploited  in  this  and  some  other  countries,  are 
corporate  forms  of  "the  oppression  of  man"  which  are 
preventing  thousands  of  souls  from  'keeping  God's  pre- 
cepts.' They  are  working  fearful  havoc.  And  they  are 
doubly  and  trebly  damaging,  just  because  they  are  so  'op- 
pressive,' so  domineering,  so  tyrannical,  so  difficult  for 
people  to  get-out-of-the-clutches-of ,  once  they  are  in. 

Then  there  is  the  inadequate  wage  system.     We  do  not 


134  The  Imperishable  Heart 

require  to  read  Winston  Churchill's  "The  Inside  of  the 
Cup,"  in  order  to  see  how  "the  oppression  of  man"  hin- 
ders in  this  direction.  Truth,  here,  is  stranger  than  fic- 
tion: or  at  least  more  staggering.  I  have  seen  it  stated 
that  there  are  women  in  the  'Little  Italy's  of  New  York 
City,  for  example,  who  get  fifteen  cents  apiece  for  arti- 
ficial bouquets  which  sell  in  the  shops  for  about  a  doUar- 
and-a-half  apiece;  their  total  earnings  being  from  sixty  to 
seventy  cents  a  day.  Now  sometimes  low  wages  and  high 
morals  do  go  together;  but  it  is  only  a  double  portion 
of  the  grace  of  God  which  can  bring  that  to  pass.  Hu- 
manly speaking,  if  you  are  starving  men's  bodies,  you  are 
starving  their  souls  also;  and  the  human  being's  profic- 
iency-in-morals  depends  to  a  considerable  extent  upon  the 
human  being's  pay. 

Then  there  are  our  arbitrary  class  distinctions  and  the 
unnatural  and  unbrotherly  gap  which  too  often  exists 
between  employers  and  employed.  True,  these  things  are 
not  so  unpleasantly  obvious  in  this  Country  as  in,  say,  the 
older  countries  of  Europe;  but,  let  me  tell  you,  they  are 
growing,  I  fear,  in  this  Country,  instead  of  diminishing 
and  disappearing.  In  a  recent  book — called  "Immigrant 
Forces" — it  is  told  that  "a  young  Bohemian  woman,  hav- 
ing saved  a  tidy  sum  from  her  earnings  as  a  maid  in 
America,  returned  to  her  home  in  Prague  with  the  idea 
of  settling  down  there  to  work.  It  was  scarcely  two 
months  before  she  was  on  her  way  back  to  America.  The 
reason  she  gave  was  not  solely  the  better  wages  she  would 
receive.  She  said,  'Here  (i.  e.,  in  her  European  home) 
I  work  like  a  dog  and  am  treated  like  a  dog.  In  America 
I  work  hard,  but  my  mistress  is  kind  and  considerate,  and 


Hinderers  13^ 

evidently  thinks  I   am  a  human   being,   too 

I  am  going  back  to  America,  and  I  do  not  think  I  shall 
ever  return.'  "  Long  may  it  be  said,  indeed,  of  this 
Country  that  its  employers  treat  their  employes  like  'hu- 
man beings,'  and  not  like  'dogs'  or  machines!  .  .  . 
Yet,  what  is  to  be  said,  when  young  people  are  asked  to 
work  in  stores  from  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  to  nine 
or  ten  at  night — six  full  days  a  week.  Is  that  fair  ?  Is  it 
not  just  "the  oppression  of  man"  preventing  our  young 
people  having  sufficient  leisure  to  realize  themselves  along 
certain  lines  of  the  Divine  '^precepts?"  Some  improve- 
ment, there,  is  needed  in  our  own  community.     .     .     . 

But,  besides  in  the  corporate  form,  "the  oppression  of 
man"  is  to  be  experienced  in  Individual  forms  and  in- 
stances— every  day  and  all  over  the  world. 

"Deliver  me  from  the  oppression  of  man:  so  will  I  keep 
Thy  precepts."  O  yes,  how  often  we  are  inclined  to  say, 
If  people  would  just  leave  us  alone,  or  at  least  treat  us  in 
a  half-Christlike  fashion,  we  could  make  some  progress  in 
character-culture!  But,  alas,  (as  the  Prayer  Book 
phrases  it)  we  are  "sore  let  and  hindered"  one  way  and 
another  almost  every  day:  and,  for  the  most  part,  we  are 
— every  one  of  us — both  hindered  and  hinderers. 

Sometimes  it  is  through  Lack  of  Courtesy  that  we  'op- 
press' and  hinder  our  fellows  from  'keeping  God's  pre- 
cepts' proficiently  and  cheerfully.  And,  remember.  Cour- 
tesy is  not  just  a  matter  of  taste  and  temperament:  it  is 
an  express  Gospel  Rule.  "Be  courteous,"  says  St.  Peter  in 
his  1st  Epistle.  In  my  parish  in  Scotland,  when,  Sunday 
mornings,  I  walked  from  the  Manse  to  the  Church,  I 


136  The  Imperishable  Heart 

usually  met  the  minister  of  one  of  the  other  Churches  in 
town  coming  in  the  opposite  direction.  One  morning,  it 
was  the  new  minister  of  that  Church  passing  along  to 
take  his  first  service  there.  I  had  never  met  him  before, 
but  I  guessed  who  he  was,  and  gave  him  "Good  Morn- 
ing" in  the  passing.  Some  weeks  afterwards,  at  the  close 
of  his  Installation  Service,  he  said  to  me,  "Man,  you  have 
no  idea  how  much  uplift  I  got  from  your  'Good  Morn- 
ing' that  first  day  we  met  out  here:  I  was  feeling  blue 
and  discouraged  and  apprehensive,  but  your  two  words 
lifted  the  cloud."  Now,  I  tell  you  that,  my  friends,  not 
to  praise  myself  (God  forbid! — besides,  I  have  never  flat- 
tered myself  on  being  an  expert  in  courtesy).  I  tell  it 
you  to  show  you  how  much  good  cheer  we  can  be  the 
means  of  communicating,  by  just  being  cheerfully  frank 
and  kindly  to  our  fellow-men — ^whether  they  happen  to  be 
life-long  chums  or  not. 

Sometimes,  again,  it  is  through  Lack  of  Neighborly 
Imagination  that  we  'oppress'  and  hinder.  And  by  Neigh- 
borly Imagination  I  mean  the  faculty  of  putting  our- 
selves in  other  people's  places — so  as  to  do  as  we  would 
be  done  by.  O,  how  often  we  say  things  we  would  never 
dream  of  saying,  how  often  we  judge  people  as  we  would 
never  presume  to  judge  them,  with  what  deplorable  want 
of  sense  we  sometimes  act  towards  people, — simply  because 
we  do  not  try  to  put  our  souls  in  their  soul's  places  and  to 
imagine  ourselves  in  their  precise  circumstances!  And  so 
misunderstandings  arise,  and  feelings  are  hurt,  and  the 
little  "rifts"  are  made  (and  sometimes  big  rifts)  in  the 
'lutes'  of  life's  orchestra.  .  .  .  To  help  us  avoid  all 
such,   then,   let  us  ponder   these   two  Apostolic  sayings: 


Hinder  ers  I37 

"Look  not  every  man  on  his  own  things  only,  but  every 
man  also  on  the  things  of  others,"  and,  ''Considering  thy- 
self, lest  thou  also  be  tempted." 

Sometimes,  again,  it  is  by  Tale-bearing  that  we  'op- 
press' and  hinder.  If  you  will  read  the  old  Book  of  Le- 
viticus, which  is  much  more  scientific  and  much  more  mod- 
ern than  some  people  suppose,  you  will  find  this  Law 
amongst  others,  "Thou  shalt  not  go  up  and  down  as  a 
tale-bearer  among  thy  people."  And  the  New  Testament 
has  some  slashing  things  to  say  of  those  who  are  "whisp- 
erers." O  yes,  too  often  we  allow  ourselves  to  'take  up  a 
reproach  against  a  neighbor'  (as  the  XVth  Psalm  puts  it), 
— to  'take  it  up,'  to  accept  it  and  handle  it — so  to  speak, 
and  to  'whisper'  it  about  amongst  our  intimates  and  as- 
sociates,— until  we  have  hurt  and  damaged  the  said  'neigh- 
bor.' Then,  the  chances  are — such  is  human  nature — said 
neighbor  will  proceed  to  live  down  to  the  new  reputation 
we  have  created  for  him  by  our  "tale-bearing."  How 
diametrically  and  wickedly  opposed  to  the  Spirit  of  Christ : 
the  spirit  of  forgiveness  and  forbearance  and  mutual  help- 
fulness and  encouragement-in-the-way-of-rlghteousness ! 

Once  more.  It  Is  sometimes  by  the  process  of  what  Is 
often  called  "pin-prlcking"  that  we  'oppress'  and  hinder 
men  and  women  from  'keeping  God's  precepts'  well  and 
gladly. 

You  know  what  this  "pin-pricking"  is:  not  slashing  at 
people  on  a  frank  and  generous  scale, — but  just  nagging  at 
them  whenever  one  gets  a  chance,  and  humiliating  them 
whenever  one  gets  the  opportunity,  and  making  subtle 
insinuations  in  their  presence — while  pretending  to  speak 
generalities  and  perhaps  dropping  them  an  anonymous  let- 


138  The  Imperishable  Heart 

ter  now  and  again.  My  friends,  many  a  good  soul  has 
been  ruined  by  that  sort  of  thing, — has  let  go  its  hold  of 
faith  in  God  and  faith  in  Humanity,  and  has  become 
sceptical  and  sour  and  unutterably  hard  and  selfish.  Well 
did  the  Master  say,  "Woe  to  that  man  by  whom  the  of- 
fence Cometh!" 

''Deliver  me  from  the  oppression  of  man:  so  will  I 
keep  Thy  precepts." 

Ay,  some  individuals  are  suffering  grievously  from  "the 
oppression  of  man," — not  to  speak  of  the  oppression  of 
woman;  and  the  wonder  is,  sometimes,  that  such  'op- 
pressed' humans  can  even  live  up  to  the  level  of  Christian 
mediocrity, — not  to  mention,  for  a  moment,  Christian 
Saintship. 

Which  of  us  is  wholly  guiltless?  Which  of  us  does 
not  need  to  get  down  on  our  knees  and  pray  for  more  and 
more  of  the  Spirit  of  CHRIST;  so  that  our  hearts  may 
be  chastened  into  a  new  appreciation  and  love  of  our  fel- 
low-mortals; and  so  that  we  may  know  how  to  adopt 
really  CHRISTIAN  METHODS,— in  the  home,  in  the 
store,  in  the  factory,  in  the  Church,  and  in  all  the  comings 
and  goings  of  our  Communal  Life? 

"Even  so,  come.  Lord  Jesus"  into  our  hard  and 
thoughtless  and  unloving  hearts,  and  make  them  Human 
Hearts  and  Hearts  of  Love! 


XIV 

THE  HAPPINESS  OF  HOLDING  ON 

"Beholdj  we  count  them  happy  which  endure." — James 
V,  II. 

'IP  HERE  are,  one  may  say,  three  E's  which  go  to  make 
up  a  complete  life,  and,  in  particular,  a  complete  and 
effective  Christian  manhood  or  womanhood.  They  are 
Enthusiasm,  Energy,  and  Endurance.  Enthusiasm,  alone, 
is  not  nearly  enough:  besides,  we  cannot  always  be  burn- 
ing and  boiling  with  Enthusiasm.  Neither  is  Enthusiasm- 
plus-Energy  enough:  our  Energy  does  not  always  ener- 
gize equally, — from  this  cause  and  from  that  we  relax 
and  tire.  But  add  to  Enthusiasm  and  Energy  ENDUR- 
ANCE; and  you  have  a  pretty  satisfactory  equipment. 
Yes,  we  need  to  be  able  to  bear,  when  we  cannot  ac- 
tually do.  We  need  to  be  able  to  hold-on,  when  we  cannot 
actually  be  pushing-on  and  making  progress.  And,  *'Be- 
hold,  we  count  them  happy  which  endure" — ^^We  call  them 
blessed  who  endure. 

You  remember  a  remarkable  passage  at  the  close  of 
the  Fortieth  of  Isaiah,  "They  that  wait  upon  the  Lord 
.  shall  mount  up  with  wings  as  eagles;  they 
shall  run,  and  not  be  weary;  they  shall  walk,  and  not 
faint."  First,  the  wings  of  aspiration  and  Enthusiasm; 
then,  the  brisk  Energy  of  the  fleet  foot;  then,  the  solid 
Endurance  of  the  walking  pace,  when  one  is  like 
to  faint,  but  does  not.    From  soaring  on  wings  to  running, 

139 


140  The  Imperishable  Heart 

and  then  to  walking!  Does  it  seem  a  disappointing  anti- 
climax? In  reality  it  is  not  so.  It  is  a  going  from 
strength  to  strength.  "Behold,  we  count  them  happy 
which  endure."  The  happiness  of  holding-on:  the  blessed- 
ness of  bearing-up. 

When  you  think  of  it,  my  friends,  what  we  honor  and 
admire  most  about  GOD  Himself  is  the  Enduringness — 
the  Abidingness — of  His  qualities.  His  power  abides. 
His  wisdom  abides.  His  love  abides.  The  constancy  of 
our  Father  in  heaven — His  sublime  staying-power — im- 
presses us,  and  touches  us.  We  know  how  it  is  put  in 
Scripture  here — in  various  passages.  ''The  glory  of  the 
Lord  shall  endure  for  ever:"  "His  righteousness  endureth 
forever:"  "His  truth  endureth  to  all  generations:"  "His 
mercy  endureth  for  ever:"  and,  in  this  same  epistle,  God 
is  called  the  "Father  of  lights,  with  whom  is  no  variable- 
ness, neither  shadow  of  turning." 

Then,  do  we  not  rejoice  and  glory  in  the  fact  that 
"JESUS  CHRIST  is  the  same  yesterday,  and  today,  and 
forever?" —  His  purity  never  to  be  tarnished;  His  love 
never  to  be  wearied;  the  comfort  of  His  Cross  never  to 
be  robbed  of  one  iota  of  its  content;  the  'power  of  His 
endless  life'  never  to  be  diminished  by  one  jot  or  tittle: — 
holding  on  for  ever  in  the  supremacy  of  His  place,  in  the 
sublimity  of  His  character,  in  the  sweetness  of  His 
grace. 

Yes,  as  James  Russell  Lowell  says,  in  one  of  his  poems, 
"Endurance  is  the  crowning  quality." 

What  is  it  that  constitutes  the  difference  between  the 
greater  works  of  art  and  the  lesser,  between  the  greater 


The  Happiness  of  Holding  On  141 

things  in  literature  and  the  lesser?  Is  it  not  just  this 
quality  of  ENDURANCE?  ''With  tears  and  laughters 
for  all  time,"  says  Mrs.  Browning  of  Shakespeare.  And 
that  is  the  distinction  of  the  great  Books  and  the  great 
Pictures  and  the  great  Musical  Compositions.  They  are 
"for  all  time."  They  live:  never  out  of  date:  receiv- 
ing, in  fact,  new  content  and  new  power-of-inspiration 
with  each  new  generation  of  seeing  eyes  and  hearing  ears 
and  thinking  minds  and  understanding  hearts. 

We  are  not  surprised,  then,  that  the  Bible  is  strong  on 
the  need  and  the  distinction  of  Endurance. 

Enthusiasm?  By  all  means:  life  is  lustreless  without 
enthusiasm.  Energy  ?  Most  certainly :  life  is  flabby  with- 
out energy.  But  through  all,  my  friends,  Endurance, — 
Staying- Power, — Stick-to-itiveness. 

Moses,  we  are  told,  was  neither  seduced  by  pleasure  nor 
overcome  of  fear,  because  "he  endured  as  seeing  Him  Who 
is  invisible."  Yes  it  is  seeing  with  the  eye  of  Faith  what 
the  eye  of  flesh  cannot  see  that  makes  men  and  women 
hold-on.  "Can  thine  heart  endure?"  said  the  prophet 
Ezekiel  to  the  people  of  Jerusalem,  when  he  was  telling 
them  that  there  w^ere  dark  days  ahead  for  them.  And 
you  remember  how  our  Saviour  frankly  and  seriously 
urged  His  disciples  to  'count  the  cost'  of  Christian  disciple- 
ship,  and  how  He  said,  "He  that  endureth  to  the  end  shall 
be  saved." 

O,  my  friends,  there  is  so  much  of  grace  and  geniality 
about  the  Gospel,  there  is  so  much  of  gladness  in  true 
Christian  discipleship,  that  we  are  apt  sometimes  to  forget 
the  grim  conditions  of  unqualified  and  ultimate  success. 

And  yet  in  a  wonderfully  deft  way  our  text  this  morn- 


142  The  Imperishable  Heart 

ing  brings  the  gladness  and  the  grimness  together:  "We 
count  them  HAPPY  which  ENDURE."— The  Happi- 
ness of  Holding-on. 

Holding-on — Enduring — "Patient  Continuance  in  well- 
doing" (to  use  a  phrase  of  St.  Paul)  !  Oh,  how  much  we 
need  it,  all  of  us! 

Not,  perhaps,  a  particularly  brilliant  note  of  character. 
No,  perhaps  not  a  brilliant  thing;  but  a  thing  that  counts, 
— ay,  the  thing  that  counts. 

''There  are  only  two  creatures,"  says  an  old  Eastern 
proverb,  (there  are  only  two  creatures)  that  can  surmount 
the  pyramids  unaided, — the  eagle  and  the  snail."  And  so, 
if,  for  Christian  expansion  and  Christian  progress,  we 
need  the  soaring  faculty  that  is  typified  in  the  king  of 
birds;  we  need  also  the  ability  to  GO  SLOW,  and  feel 
our  way  along,  and  stick  to  the  track  in  those  slippery 
places  where  a  freer  and  swifter  foot  might  slip  and  bring 
the  traveller  to  grief. 

I  knew  a  young  athlete  at  the  University  of  Edinburgh 
who  could  beat  all  comers  at  quick  starting  in  a  short 
race.  He  was  off  his  mark  like  the  very  shot  of  the  pistol 
itself, — and  with  it  to  a  tenth  of  a  second;  and  at,  say, 
twenty  yards  from  the  starting-line  he  was  invariably  lead- 
ing. Now,  it  is  often  said  of  a  short  race  (a  sprint)  that 
'everything  is  in  the  start.'  Is  it?  I  never  knew  that  fel- 
low to  win  a  race — even  a  hundred  yards  race.  Why? 
Because  he  never  took  pains  to  cultivate  staying-power. 
Always  first  at  the  start,  he  was  never  first  at  the  finish. 

.  .  .  And  if  the  importance  of  staying-power  in- 
creases with  the  length  of  the  race,  then  let  us  remember 


The  Happiness  of  Holding  On  143 

that  our  lives  are  not  just  sprints,  but  long  and  exacting 
races  requiring  "all  we  know." 

The  Start  may  be  something  (yes,  a  right  start,  surely)  : 
but  the  Staying  Power  is  nearly  everything.  "Which 
of  you,"  said  the  great  Teacher,  you  remember, 
"which  of  you,  intending  to  build  a  tower,  sitteth  not 
down  first,  and  counteth  the  cost,  whether  he  have  suf- 
ficient to  finish  it?  Lest  haply  all  that  behold  begin  to 
mock  .  .  .,  saying.  This  man  began  to  build,  and 
was  not  able  to  finish."  What  an  awful  pronouncement 
to  have  to  receive  on  one's  life, — "This  man  began  to 
build,  but  was  not  able  to  finish"! 

I  knew  a  preacher,  too,  who  was  always  announcing 
series  of  lectures  to  be  given  in  his  Church — on  this  and 
that  subject.  They  looked  remarkably  well  on  paper — 
these  programs ;  but  I  do  not  remember  of  any  one  series  be- 
ing carried  out  to  completion.  They  (all,  I  think)  died 
premature  deaths.  Why?  Because  (and  I  had  this  on 
the  admission  of  the  man  himself)  he  had  not  mapped  out 
his  course  with  sufficient  precision:  he  had  not  gotten  his 
material  sufficiently  well  together  at  the  start;  and,  once 
started,  he  seemed  to  think  that  comparatively  little  work 
was  needed. 

Why,  brethren,  if  a  man  once  starts  on  a  worthy  and 
substantial  line  of  work  (whatever  it  may  be),  let  him 
know  that  he  is  in  for  a  call-to-work  which  will 
abide  from  day  to  day  and  week  to  week.  I  sometimes 
fear  that  some  of  our  young  people  allow  themselves  to 
suppose  that,  after  four  or  five  years  at  College,  they  will 
be  equipped  and  the  way  thereafter  will  be  comparatively 
easy,     Why,  my  young  friends,  after  a  fellow  leaves  col- 


144  The  Imperishable  Heart 

lege  (if  it  be  that),  his  WORK  is  only  beginning.  And, 
if  a  fellow  does  not  learn,  at  College,  to  endure — to 
hang-in  to  whatever  work  he  undertakes,  then,  I  suspect, 
his  college  education  has  gone  for  little. 

Then  there  is  the  ''Gusher:"  the  individual  who  effer- 
vesces with  enthusiasm  over  this  or  that  project,  and  is 
prolific  in  promises  and  suggestions;  but,  somehow  or 
other,  not  on  deck  when  wanted,  not  there  to  take  part  in 
the  follow-up  work, — usually  elsewhere  and  otherwise  oc- 
cupied when  the  need  of  quiet,  patient,  continuation-work 
is  pressing.  Probably  always  "busy  here  and  there"  (as 
the  Old  Testament  phrases  it),  but  seldom  'on  the  job.' 
Ay,  not  infrequently  too  much  gush,  too  little  grit. 
"He  was  ever  precise  in  promise-keeping,"  is  approvingly 
said  of  one  of  Shakespeare's  men. 

Yes,  it  is  the  explanation  of  many  a  disappointing  life, 
— this  lack  of  Endurance,  this  lack  of  stick-to-itiveness. 
Many  a  man  has  relaxed  just  at  the  point  where 
success  was  about  to  begin.  I  trust  I  do  not  underrate 
the  difficulties  one  may  meet;  the  cloying  monotony  of 
some  tasks;  the  baffling  discouragements  that  fall  in  one's 
way;  the  trials  of  faith  and  patience;  the  subtle  tempta- 
tions to  ease,  and  the  specious  excuses  that  bow  themselves 
into  our  pathway.  But,  brethren,  if  these  things  were 
not,  there  would  be  no  call  for  staying-power,  no  happi- 
ness of  endurance. 

"Much  drawback!     What  were  earth  without? 

"Is  this  our  ultimate  stage,  or  starting-place 

"To  try  man's  foot     .     .     .      ? 

"...     Was  the  trial  sore? 

"Temptation  sharp?     Thank  Go4     ,     ,     ,      ! 


The  Happiness  of  Holding  On  145 

"Why  comes  temptation  but  for  man  to  meet 
"And  master  and  make  crouch  beneath  his  foot, 
"And  so  be  pedestaled  in  triumph?" 
Ah,  yes,  the  call  to  Endurance  is  not  just  a  counsel  of  des- 
pair.    It  is  an  appeal  to  all  that  is  most  heroic  and  most 
courageous  and  most  Christlike  in  human  nature.     "Be- 
hold, we  count  them  HAPPY  who  ENDURE." 

All  the  same,  we  do  well  to  make  up  our  minds  that 
there  are  times  when  there  is  not  much  exhilaration — not 
much  suggestion  of  'happiness' — about  the  Endurance. 

There  are  times,  with  most  of  us, — are  there  not? — 
when  things  go  all  awry,  when  all  is  confusion,  when  there 
is  no  glint  of  light — no  beam  of  hope — athwart  the  path, 
when  we  are  simply  humbled  flat;  when,  perhaps,  our 
faith  in  God  is  a  mere  flicker,  and  our  love  of  Christ  a 
scarce  distinguishable  spark;  when  we  are  out  of  heart 
with  ourselves,  and  have  pretty  near  lost  faith  in  every- 
body else.  What  are  we  to  do  at  such  times  as  these? 
Simply  HOLD  ON:  set  our  faces  like  a  flint,  and 
'march  breast  forward.'  No  dazzling  feat  is  possible  in 
such  dull,  flat,  wn inspirational  seasons.  No  dazzling  feat 
is  possible:  no  thrilling  throw  of  the  soul:  no  exhilarat- 
ing 'poetry  of  motion'!  Just  the  prosaic  and  lustreless 
duty  of  going  on  step  by  step — with  "quiet  brave 
endurance."  It  was  a  man  of  many  sceptical  and 
despondent  thoughts  who  said,  nevertheless,  "Be  what 
you  ought  to  be ;  the  rest  is  God's  affair.  .  .  .  And," 
he  added,  "supposing  that  there  were  no  good  and  holy 
God,  .  .  .  Duty  would  still  be  the  key  of  the 
enigma,  the  pole-star  of  a  wandering  humanity."     And 


146  The  Imperishable  Heart 

there  is  a  wonderful  passage  in  the  Book  of  Job  (that 
Book  so  sombre  in  many  ways,  but,  at  heart  and  in  its 
issue,  a  Book  of  Faith) — there  is  this  wonderful  passage, 
"He  hath  made  me  a  byword  of  the  people;  .  .  . 
mine  eye  also  is  dim  by  reason  of  sorrow,  and  all  my  mem- 
bers are  as  a  shadow.  .  .  .  Yet  shall  the  righteous 
HOLD  ON  HIS  WAY,  and  he  that  hath  clean  hands 
shall  wax  stronger  and  stronger." 

Yes,  my  friends,  it  is  in  the  day  of  hard  trial  that  En- 
durance is  the  only  way;  and  the  only  guarantee  ot 
'happiness ;'  and,  moreover,  the  only  thing  that  we  'count 
happy'  and  agree  to  admire  and  honor.  "In  a  fair  gale," 
it  has  been  said,  "every  fool  may  sail,  but  wise  behavior  in 
a  storm  commends  the  wisdom  of  a  pilot."  Or,  as  the 
Book  of  Proverbs  has  it,  "If  thou  faint  in  the  day  of  ad- 
versity, thy  strength  is  small." 

"We  count  them  happy  which  endure!"  Is  it  not 
so?  The  individual  who  clean  breaks  down  "in  the 
day  of  adversity,"  and  lies  shattered  and  hopeless  and  be- 
reft of  all  energy  and  all  desire?  Or,  the  individual  who, 
"in  the  day  of  adversity,"  frets  and  fumes  and  cavils  and 
snarls  at  Providence?  Or,  the  individual  who  proceeds  to 
engulf  his  cares  instead  of  enduring  them — who  proceeds 
to  'drown  his  cares'  in  some  sort  of  self-indulgence  ?  These 
(however  we  may  feel  for  them,  and  appreciate  the  hard- 
ness of  their  lot) — these  are  not  the  men  and  women 
whom  we  'count  happy'  and  take  for  our  models. 
No,  "we  count  them  happy  who  endure'"  who,  in  their 
darkest  days  and  in  their  bitterest  experiences,  still 
keep  on  trusting,  and  keep  on  trying,  and  keep  on  smil- 
ing    (if    it    may    be), — determined,    at    all    events,    to 


The  Happiness  of  Holding  On  147 

touch  no  other  heart  with  pain,  and  to  infect  no  neighboi 
soul  with  doubt,  and  to  bring  into  the  lives  about  them  no 
other  spirit  than  the  very  Spirit  of  CHRIST  Himself. 
Thank  God  for  that  sort.  I  have  known  not  a  few 
of  them ;  and  they  have  been  the  sheet-anchor  of  my  own 
Faith  and  Patience  when  these  things  were  like  to  give 
way.     For 

"Through  such  souls     .     .     . 

"God  stooping  shows  sufficient  of  His  light 

"For  us  in  the  dark  to  rise  by." 

And  so,  brethren,  I  have  come  to  my  last  word  this 
morning.  "Through  such  souls" — have  I  just  quoted? 
Yes,  but  "ONE  there  is  above  all  others,"  Who  shows 
us  how  to  "endure."  "Consider  HIM  Who  endured 
such  contradiction  of  sinners  against  Himself,  lest  ye  be 
wearied  and  faint  in  your  minds." 

Long  weeks  before  the  end  the  Saviour  "steadfastly  set 
His  face  to  go  to  Jerusalem," — ^where.  He  well  knew, 
suspicion  and  disloyalty  and  insult  and  death  awaited 
Him.  He  "steadfastly  set  His  face  to  go":  and  went. 
Never  a  hint  of  flinching:  never  a  suggestion  of  turning 
out  of  the  way. 

Then,  in  what  I  always  think  must  have  been  His  very 
darkest  and  most  painful  hour,  it  was,  "Father,  if  it  be 
possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me:  nevertheless  not  as  I 
will,  but  as  Thou  wilt." 

Then,  in  fine,  He  "endured  the  cross;"  because,  if  it 
was  the  death-place  of  Sin,  it  was  also  the  birth-place  of 
a  new  Love  for  the  world  and  a  new  Faith  in  the  Good- 
ness and  Mercy  of  God  and  a  new  spring  for  the  Ser- 


148  The  Imperishable  Heart 

vice  of  Humanity. 

And,  how  was  it  all  done?  With  a  frown  on  the 
face,  and  a  protest  in  the  heart  ?  Nay,  verily :  but  with  an 
unfaltering  trust  in  God,  and  with  a  quiet  mind,  and  with 
a  heart  of  Love.  And  so  the  JOY  of  the  Saviour — in  His 
completed  work  of  Redemption — must  be  a  deeper  and 
richer  and  holier  joy  than  we  have  ever  attained  to:  al- 
though, mark  you,  we  may  have  some  taste  of  it,  if  we 
take  up  our  crosses  quietly  and  bravely  and  hopefully 
and  lovingly — for  HIS  sake  and  for  the  Brethren's  sake 
and  for  the  joy  that  is  set  before  us!  For,  "behold,  we 
count  them  happy  who  endure," 


XV 

THE  DIVINE  ARITHMETIC 

"So  teach  us  ta  number  our  days,  that  we  may  apply  our 
hearts  unto  wisdom.'' — Psalm  XC,  I2. 

Ayf  ANY  fine  and  appreciative  things  have  been  said 
about  this  Psalm  which  I  have  read  to  you  this  even- 
ing, and  in  the  heart  of  which  I  have  found  my  text.  It 
has  been  called  "perhaps  the  most  sublime  of  human  com- 
positions." "The  Psalm,"  says  another,  "has  something 
uncommonly  striking,  solemn,  sinking  into  the  depths  of 
the  Godhead."     And  so  on — tributes  exceeding  many. 

And  no  wonder !  For  the  XCth  Psalm  is  wonderful, — 
a  masterpiece, — a  literary  "pearl  of  great  price," — a  unique 
poem  of  the  Soul. 

Nothing  more  apt,  nor  more  pathetic,  than  is  said  here 
has  ever  been  said  about  the  brevity  of  human  life — the 
comparative  nothingness  of  it  all.  At  the  same  time 
nothing  more  apt,  nor  more  majestic,  than  what  is  said 
here  has  ever  been  said  about  the  things  that  abide, — 
about  the  Unchanging  God  and  the  consequent  splendor 
of  human  life  when  touched  with  "the  beauty  of  the  Lord 
our  God." 

It  is  one  of  those  portions  of  Scripture  that  we  should 
all  be  the  better  of  knowing  by  heart.  The  XCth  Psalm 
has  had  its  place,  all  these  years,  in  the  Burial  Service  of 
"The  Book  of  Common  Prayer;"  and  it  is  the  foundation 
of  Isaac  Watts's  well-known  hymn  "Our  God,  our  Help 

149 


I50  The  Imperishable  Heart 

in  ages  past." 

A  modern  American  poet,  speaking  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, said,  in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  "Am  still  wondering 
about  that  Book.  Look  at  'Job'  now — it  is  amazing — one 
or  two  thousand  years  before  our  era."  Perhaps  he  was 
a  little  out  in  his  reckoning  of  the  time  of  the  composition 
of  the  Book  of  'Job;'  but  he  was  certainly  right  in  say- 
ing, "It  is  amazing."  Similarly  we  may  say  of  the  Old  Tes- 
tament, "Still  wondering  about  that  Book.  Look  at  the 
XCth  Psalm  now — it  is  amazing."  Yes,  indeed,  "it  is 
amazing;"  and,  "as  the  greatest  only  are,  in  its  simplicity 
sublime." 

We  are  not  to  suppose,  however,  that,  with  its  intense 
solemnity  and  with  its  peculiar  appropriateness  for  the 
Burial  Service,  this  Psalm  is  a  poem  of  Death.  On  the 
contrary,  it  is,  in  very  deed,  a  poem  of  Life.  And  so,  it 
seems  to  me,  the  practical  value  of  the  Psalm  is  focussed 
for  us  in  the  words  of  our  text, — "So  teach  us  to  number 
our  days,  that  we  may  apply  our  hearts  unto  wisdom." 

We  may  fairly  put  the  emphasis  on  the  little  word 
"so;" —  "«So  teach  us  to  number  our  days,  that  we  may 
apply  our  hearts  unto  wisdom."     .     . 

"That  we  may  apply  our  hearts  unto  wisdom."  Not, 
that  we  may  increase  our  stock  of  common  knowledge. 
Not,  that  we  may  increase  our  smart  sententiousness.  Not, 
that  we  may  become  more  worldly  wise.  But, — "that  we 
may  apply  our  hearts  unto  wisdom,"  that  we  may  increase 
our  heart-wisdom :  which  is  the  best  kind  of  wisdom  of  all, 
and  which  the  New  Testament  calls  "the  wisdom  that  is 
from  above,  .  .  .  first  pure,  then  peaceable,  gentle, 
and  easy  to  be  entreated,  full  of  mercy  and  good  fruits. 


The  Divine  Arithmetic  15I 

without  partiality,  and  without  hypocrisy." 

How,  then,  is  that  end  to  be  attained, — namely  a  safe 
and  substantial  garnering  of  H ear t- Wisdom  ? —  ''So 
teach  us  to  number  our  days,  that  we  may  apply  our  hearts 
unto  wisdom."  What  are  to  be  some  of  the  methods  of 
this  "divine  arithmetic"? 

Well,  first  of  all  I  will  say — but  let  me  not  be  mis- 
understood— that  we  are  not  to  "number  our  days"  at  all. 
I  mean,  we  are  not  to  be  either  painfully  precise  or  mor- 
bidly melancholy  about  'numbering  our  days.'  It  has  been 
said  that  "nature  hates  calculators,"  and  that  "all  good 
conversation,  manners,  and  action,  come  from  a  spon- 
taneity which  .  .  .  makes  the  moment  great."  In 
other  words,  brethren,  if  we  are  to  live  naturally,  spon- 
taneously, gladly,  inspirationally, — ^we  must  largely  get 
rid  of  the  'calculating'  habit,  and  move  along  as  if  each 
new  day  were  both  our  first  and  our  last  day,  and  our 
best  day.  We  must  pluck  out  the  heart  of  each  new  day's 
blessing,  without  stopping  every  hour  or  so  to  say  within 
ourselves,  'We  have  lived  so  long,  and  have  only  so  much 
longer  to  live.'  That,  it  seems  to  me,  is  really  the  thought 
lying  back  of  such  a  saying  of  Jesus  as  "Take  no  thought 
for  the  morrow."  He  surely  doesn't  mean  that  we  are 
to  be  thoughtless  and  improvident  and  unprepared.  But 
He  surely  does  mean  that  we  are  not  to  becloud  our  days 
with  dull  forebodings,  that  we  are  not  to  take  the  spring 
and  sparkle  out  of  our  lives  by  a  morbid  balancing  of 
probabilities.  I  wish  I  could  express  what  I  mean-to-be- 
at a  little  more  clearly.     For  what  I  feel  is  that  some 


152  The  Imperishable  Heart 

people  have  not  yet  learned  to  take  hold  of  life  with  both 
hands  and  to  live  naturally — brightly  and  bravely  and  as 
if  they  had  a  right  to  live.  They  are  calculating  too 
much.  They  are  going  in  too  much  for  comparing  one 
day  with  another.  They  are  moralising  too  much,  and  al- 
lowing the  shadows  of  the  past  and  the  spectres  of  the  fu- 
ture to  take  the  heart  out  of  them  for  the  opportunities 
and  the  blessings  which  are  their  present  right.  When 
shall  we  learn  the  goodness  and  the  glory  of  the  Apos- 
tolic saying,  "Now  is  the  accepted  time"  ? 

But,  apparently,  there  is  a  'wise'  numbering  of  our 
days. 

And  so  I  will  say,  next.  Let  us  "number  our  days" 
spiritually,  not  mathematically. 

For  some  things,  to  be  sure,  it  is  important  to  know  a 
person's  exact  age.  Nay  more,  in  some  respects  one's  age- 
in-years  has  a  good  deal  to  do  with  one's  mental  and 
spiritual  attainments:  according  to  the  remark,  "Tell  me 
how  old  you  are,  and  I  will  tell  you  what  you  are 
thinking." 

But,  after  all,  brethren,  as  one  of  the  greatest  prophets 
of  the  Soul  has  put  it,  "It  is  not  length  of  life,  but  depth 
of  life"  that  counts :  "It  is  not  duration,  but  a  taking  of 
the  soul  out  of  time,  as  all  high  action  of  the  mind  does: 
when  we  are  living  in  the  sentiments  we  ask  no  questions 
about  time." 

What  avails  it  that  a  fellow  is  young  in  years  and  in 
appearance,  if  he  is  old  in  duplicity  and  vice?  Or,  what 
matters  it  that  one  is  mature  in  years  and  in  the  wisdom 
of  the  world,  if  he  is  green  and  immature  in  that  "meek- 


The  Divine  Arithmetic  1 53 

ness  and  gentleness  of  Christ"  which  the  years  should 
bring  ?  Not  seldom  those  who — to  our  uncommon  grief — 
have  died  in  their  prime  have  gotten  far  more  out  of 
life,  and  have  put  far  more  into  life,  than  scores  of  those 
who  have  made  out  the  allotted  span.  And  one  man  does 
more  that  is  really-worth-while  in  a  single  day  than  his 
neighbor  does  in  years.  So  true  is  it  that  "life  is  measured 
by  thought  and  action,  not  by  time;"  and  that 
"We  live  in  deeds,  not  years;  in  thoughts,  not  breaths; 
In  feelings,  not  in  figures  on  a  dial. 
We  should  count  time  by  heart-throbs.  He  most  lives 
Who  thinks  most,  feels  the  noblest,  acts  the  best." 
Doesn't  our  Psalm  here  say,  "Let  the  beauty  of  the  Lord 
our  God  be  upon  us?" —  Neither  the  beauty  of  unblem- 
ished youth,  nor  the  beauty  of  well-preserved  age;  but 
"the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God," — "the  beauty  of  holi- 
ness,"— the  beauty  that  "time  cannot  age"  and  "death 
cannot  slay."  And  do  we  not  read  in  one  of  the  New 
Testament  Epistles  that  "with  the  Lord"  (that  is,  from 
the  spiritual  point  of  view,  from  the  point  of  view  of 
what  is  really  worth  caring  about) — '"with  the  Lord"  one 
day  may  be  as  a  thousand  years,  and  a  thousand  years 
as  one  day?  O,  so  many  people  have  yet  to  be  emanci- 
pated from  the  merely  chronological  estimate  of  life!  "So 
teach  us  to  number  our  days,  that  we  may  apply  our 
hearts  unto  wisdom." 

And  I  will  say,  next,  Let  us  "number  our  days"  eco- 
nomically, not  prodigally. 

Do  you  say,  Now  you  are  at  the  very  opposite  pole  from 
the  point  of  view  you  have  just  been  emphasizing?     Yes, 


154  ^^^  Imperishable  Heart 

I  am :  and  purposely.  Because  it  is  so  easy,  in  the  affairs 
of  the  soul,  to  mistake  license  for  liberty,  and  to  go  beyond 
bounds.  It  is  so  easy,  in  seeking  to  be  spiritually-minded, 
to  get  away  up  beyond  the  atmosphere  altogether  into  a 
realm  that  is  insubstantial  and  ineffectual.  But,  as  the 
Apostle  says,  "the  life  which  I  now  live  in  the  flesh  I  live 
by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of  God;"  and  we  have  to  take  ac- 
count of  certain  conditions  and  limitations.  While  it  is 
true  that  we  are  children  of  Eternity,  it  is  also  true  that 
we  are  creatures  of  a  Day ;  and  we  need  to  know  what  to 
do  with  each  single  day.  The  artists,  you  know,  have 
usually  painted  the  Hours  with  wings;  because  they  fly 
fully  oftener  than  they  creep.  Truly,  "the  time  is  short." 
Yes,  too  short  for  trifling.  Too  short — far  too  short — 
for  feeding  our  jealousies  and  nursing  our  grudges.  Too 
short — far  too  short — for  aimless  (but  never  harmless) 
gossip.  Too  short — far  too  short — for  haphazard  meth- 
ods of  work.  Not  that  we  are  to  make  of  life  a  fever- 
ish rush:  for  "he  that  believeth  shall  not  make 
haste,"  and  all  good  work  requires  a  certain  leisureliness. 
Nor  that  we  are  to  be  the  slaves  of  a  schedule — like  a 
railroad  train:  for  "where  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
is,  there  is  liberty,"  and  all  great  work  should  wear  an 
air  of  freedom.  Only,  we  ought  to  know  the  value 
of  Time;  and  how  to  "use"  it,  "as  not  abusing  it."  Many 
a  man's  success  is  attributable  to  nothing  more  nor  less 
than  that  he  "has  learnt  the  secret  of  economizing  his 
time," — that  he  has  studied  to  be  punctual,  and  to  be 
orderly,  and  to  "gather  up  the  fragments"  of  his  time 
instead  of  leaving  them  to  waste.  "So  teach  us  to  num- 
ber our  days,  that  we  may  apply  our  hearts  unto  wis- 


The  Divine  Arithmetic  155 

dom." 

And  I  will  say,  next,  Let  us,  "number  our  days" 
gratefully. 

How  apt  we  are  to  remember  the  dull  and  rainy  days, 
and  to  forget  the  bright  and  fair  days!  There  are  de- 
pressingly  few  Polly  Anna's  among  us.  The  truth  is, 
we  too  often  begin  at  the  wrong  end  in  our  calculations. 
We  begin  with  the  unpleasantnesses  and  the  disappoint- 
ments: and,  of  course,  it  is  quite  a  long  time  ere  we  come 
to  the  happier  things.  But  suppose  we  begin  with  the 
happier  things, — the  chances  are  we  may  never  get  the 
length  of  the  other  things  at  all.  **Keep  your  eyes  open 
to  your  mercies,"  says  Stevenson,  **the  man  that  forgets  to 
be  thankful  has  fallen  asleep  in  life." 

I  trust  I  am  not  thoughtless,  nor  unsympathetic:  and 
I  think  I  know  the  trials  and  thwartings  of  the  human 
situation  pretty  well.  But,  oh,  my  friends,  with  it  all, 
what  great  days — ay,  what  a  host  of  great  days — most  of 
us  have  had!  Days  of  simple,  unaffected  happiness;  the 
memory  of  which  we  would  not  trade  for  anything.  Days 
of  usefulness;  the  knowledge  of  which  assures  us  that 
we  have  not  lived  in  vain.  Times  and  seasons  of  mental 
emancipation  and  spiritual  uplift;  the  blessing  of  which 
still  abides  with  us,  and  keeps  us  in  tune  with  the  In- 
finite. Times  and  seasons  of  the  sweet  and  pure  ex- 
changes of  Love  and  Friendship ;  which  are  making  music 
In  our  hearts  for  all  time.  "What  shall  I  render  unto 
the  Lord  for  all  His  benefits  toward  me?" 
"Blow,  blow,  thou  winter  wind, 
Thou  art  not  so  unkind 


156  The  Imperishable  Heart 

As   man's   ingratitude;     .     .     . 

Freeze,  freeze,  thou  bitter  sky. 

Thou  dost  not  bite  so  nigh 

As  benefits  forgot." 
My  friends,  there  is  something  wrong  somewhere — 
something  wrong  either  with  the  way  we  have  taken  our 
joys  or  with  the  way  we  have  taken  our  sorrows,  or 
both — if  we  cannot  say,  every  single  soul  of  us,  **Bless  the 
Lord,  O  my  soul,  and  forget  not  all  His  benefits:     . 

.  .  I  will  declare  Thy  name  among  my  brethren ;  in 
the  midst  of  the  congregation  will  I  praise  Thee." 

And,  if  we  are  to  "number  our  days"  gratefully,  surely 
also  we  shall  ''number"  them  hopefully! 

Indeed,  the  one  follows  from  the  other:  as  the 
CXVth  Psalm  has  it,  with  an  inexorable  simplicity  of 
logic,  ''The  Lord  hath  been  mindful  of  us:  He  will 
bless  us." 

Some  of  us  have  a  fatalistic  tendency  of  mind.  We 
will  take  gloomy  views  of  the  days  ahead.  We  refuse 
to  "abound  in  hope."  Things  are  going  to  disappoint  us, 
— we  are  sure  of  it. 

Now,  my  friends,  I  know  right  well  just  what  I  am 
talking  about  here;  because  I  am  one  of  those  who  have 
the  fatalistic  bias.  But,  I  tell  you  (as  I  try  to  tell  my- 
self again  and  again),  there  is  nothing  we  should  fight- 
down  and  fight-out  more  determinedly.  For  I  believe 
sufficiently  in  the  philosophy  of  the  New  Thought  to 
say  that,  if  we  habitually  expect  the  days  ahead  to  be 
disappointing,  we  are  doing  our  best  to  make  them  so. 
Let  us  shake  it  off, — this  apprehensiveness,  this  hopeless- 


The  Divine  Arithmetic  157 

ness.  It  is  not  fair  to  ourselves.  Still  less  is  it  fair  to 
the  keeping  and  providing  God.  We  shall  do  well  to 
get  by  heart — and  to  keep  in  our  hearts — that  great  verse 
of  Robert  Brov^^ning's  (so  obviously  inspired  by  the  words 
of  the  Book  Itself), 

"Grow  old  along  with  me! 
The  best  is  yet  to  be, 
The  last  of  life,  for  which  the  first  was  made: 
Our  times  are  in  His  hand 
Who  saith,  *A  whole  I  planned, 
Youth  shows  but  half ;  trust  God :  see  all  nor  be  afraid !'  " 

And  so,  last  of  all  and  to  sum  up  all,  I  will  say,  Let 
us  "number  our  days"  as  Children  of  Eternity. 

Not,  Let  us  spend  our  days  here  wisely  and  purely 
and  usefully;  because  they  are  few,  and  will  soon  be  at 
an  end.  But,  Let  us  spend  our  days  here  wisely  and 
purely  and  usefully;  that  we  may  be  ready  for  the  more 
splendid  opportunities  and  the  larger  tasks  of  "that  new 
life,  we  blindly  christen  death."  "Our  life,"  it  has 
been  said,  "is  not  a  land-locked  lake  enclosed  within  the 
shore-lines  of  seventy  years.  It  is  an  arm  of  the  sea." 
Let  our  ships  be  builded,  then,  for  the  "larger  waters." 
No  small  and  flimsy  craft  will  do:  only  "stately  ships," 
which   are  stately  souls. 

It  is  remarkable,  indeed,  how  little  JESUS  says, 
specifically,  about  the  Future  Life.  "He  is  never  once 
weak  or  sentimental"  about  it:  "He  is  very  abstemious 
of  explanation."  But,  could  you  possibly  imagine  Him 
saying,  "This  life  is  all:  we  have  no  everlasting  Father; 
we  have  no  abiding  Home."     Why,  brethren,  JESUS  is 


158  The  Imperishable  Heart 

inexplicable  on  any  such  basis.  His  whole  teaching,  and 
His  whole  life  and  work,  assume  that  "here  we  have  no 
continuing  city,  but  we  seek  one  to  come."  He  didn't 
need  to  say  much  about  Human  Immortality:  He  lived 
it,  and  graciously  gave  away  the  secret  of  it,  and  made 
men  "wise  unto  salvation." 

"So  teach  us  to  number  our  days,  that  we  may  apply 
our  hearts  unto  wisdom." 


XVI 

THE  SUPERIOR  BLESSEDNESS  OF  GIVING 

"It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive." — Acts  XX, 
35. 

T  DON'T  know  what  you  think,  my  friends;  but  there 
is  no  portion  of  Scripture  that  I  like  better,  or  that 
it  does  me  more  good  to  read,  than  this  Farewell  Address 
of  St.  Paul  to  the  "elders  of  the  Church"  of  Ephesus. 
It  is  at  once  so  frank  and  so  fervent;  yet  marked  by  a 
fine  restraint.  Here  we  have  a  man  of  high  ideals  and 
of  many  toils  and  trials  sizing-himself-up  (so  to  speak)  ; 
yet  without  a  trace  of  egotism.  And — to  be  sure — the 
whole  thing,  from  beginning  to  end,  is  redolent  of  grace, 
saturated  with  the  wholesome  perfume  of  the  Gospel. 
No  one,  it  seems  to  me,  (no  one)  can  read  these  words 
of  the  Christian  Apostle — while  keeping  the  circum- 
stances well  in  mind — without  gaining  a  new  apprecia- 
tion of  the  man  and  of  his  message  and  of  his  Master. 
No  wonder  we  read  that,  after  the  address  and  the  prayer 
which  followed  it  (how  I  should  have  liked  to  hear  that 
prayer!), — no  wonder  we  read,  then,  that  "they  all  wept 
sore,  and  fell  on  Paul's  neck,  and  kissed  him,  sorrowing 
most  of  all  for  the  words  which  he  spake,  that  they 
should  see  his  face  no  more."  Ay,  there  are  some  faces 
that  are  inspirations:  because  they  have  souls  behind 
them. 

But  there  is  one  very  special  point  of  interest  in  this 
159 


l6o  The  Imperishable  Heart 

Miletus  address  of  St.  Paul:  namely,  that  it  preserves  for 
us  a  wonderful  saying  of  the  Master  Himself,  which  is 
not  to  be  found  in  any  of  the  four  Gospels ;  although,  to 
be  sure,  the  spirit  of  it  is  in  all  of  Jesus'  teaching. 
Moreover,  the  saying  in  question  is  the  only  reported  say- 
ing of  Jesus  in  the  New  Testament  outside  of  the  Gospels. 
"I  have  showed  you  all  things,"  says  the  Apostle  (in  verse 
35  here),  "how  that  ...  ye  ought  to  support  the 
weak,  and  to  remember  the  words  of  the  Lord  Jesus, 
how  He  said,  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive." 

Well,  are  we  not  inclined  at  once  to  say,  'How  fortun- 
ate— how  good — that  that  saying  of  the  Master  has  been 
preserved  for  us  here!'  And,  are  we  not  moved  to  say, 
further,  'How  many  wonderful  things  Jesus  must  have 
said,  which  have  not  been  recorded:  would  that  we  had 
more  of  them!'  (for,  after  all,  the  Gospel  Record  is  but 
a   fragment). 

Then,  how  like  Jesus  to  have  said  just  that,  "It  is 
more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive!"  He  simply  must 
have  said  it:  it  is  no  invention  of  St.  Paul.  Yes,  there 
are  some  things  which  are  "too  good"  not  "to  be  true." 
And  that  is  one  of  the  distinctions  of  the  teaching  of 
Jesus:  that  it  is  beyond  question,  because  it  is  by  far  the 
best  that  we  know — and  better  by  far  than  we  ourselves 
could   have   conceived. 

"The  words  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  how  HE  said.  It  is 
more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive." 

"Stuff  and  nonsense,"  says  the  man  of  the  world,  "it 
is  the  other  way  about, — it  is  more  blessed  to  receive 
than  to  give — and  everybody  thinks  so :  what  we  give  im- 


The  Superior  Blessedness  of  Giving  i6l 

poverishes  us  and  depresses  us — less  or  more,  while  what 
we  get — either  by  our  own  toil  or  in  gift — enriches  us 
and   gladdens   us." 

Of  course,  my  friends,  we  are  not  surprised  that  the 
crass  worldlings  should  think  so — and  say  so :  those  down- 
rightly  and  avowedly  selfish  people  of  the  'lago'  type, 
''Who,  trimm'd  in  forms  and  visages  of  duty. 
Keep  yet  their  hearts  attending  on  themselves, 
.     .     .     and  when  they  have  lined  their  coats 
Do  themselves  homage." 

But,  my  friends,  putting  aside  the  crass  worldling,  there 
is — as  distinguished  from  the  man  who  is  consciously  and 
fervently  "in  Christ" — (there  is)  the  ordinary  man  of 
the  world  who  is  not  entirely  untouched  "to  fine  issues" : 
the  man  in  the  street,  as  it  is  so  often  put. 

Well,  I  wish  to  say  that  he  knows  perfectly  well — and 
is  often  moved  to  admit — that  "it  is  more  blessed  to  give 
than  to  receive."  That  is,  if  he  is  a  normally  healthy  hu- 
man— mentally  and  morally. 

Let  me  suppose  he  is  a  manufacturer;  with  a  sufficient 
plant,  with  a  number  of  workmen  in  his  employ,  ship- 
ping orders  from  time  to  time  to  various  parts  of  the 
world,  and  receiving  payment  for  value  given.  Do  you 
mean  to  tell  me  that  the  only  thing  he  thinks  about  are  his 
profits,  that  the  only  thing  which  gives  him  any  satisfac- 
tion at  all  is  the  return  he  is  getting  for  his  invested  cap- 
ital? I  simply  don't  believe  it.  I  believe,  rather,  that 
deep  down  in  that  man's  nature  (if  he  is  a  man  at  all — 
and  welcomes  a  man's  job)  there  is  the  satisfaction  of  be- 
ing a  'producer,'  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  th^t  he  is 


1 62  The  Imperishable  Heart 

giving  this  busy  world  something  that  it  needs — perhaps 
something  that  only  his  factory  can  turn  out,  the  satisfac- 
tion that  by  his  gifts  of  output  he  is  counting  for  some- 
thing in  this  world  as  God  has  made  it.  Ay,  and  I  be- 
lieve that,  in  many  cases,  that  satisfaction  is  even  more 
prized  by  a  man  than  the  satisfaction  of  'making  good 
money.'  Indeed,  isn't  that  one  chief  reason  why  so  many 
men  who  are  eminently  well-off  are  unwilling  to  retire 
from  the  activities  of  business? — they  have  a  sort  of 
suspicion  that,  when  retired,  they  will  have  ceased  to  be 
producers — w411  have  ceased  to  be  dynamic  factors  in  the 
world's  progress,  no  matter  how  much  money  may  still 
continue  to  come  in  to  them.  They  have  a  lurking  per- 
suasion, in  short,  that  "it  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to 
receive." 

Or,  take  the  case  of  a  musical  artist.  What  is  "the 
head  and  front"  of  his  pleasure — of  his  artistic  'blessed- 
ness'? It  is  (or  I  am  very  far  cheated)  giving  of  his 
best  to  other  people, — his  best  of  interpretation  and  of  up- 
lift and  of  the  contagion  of  joy.  He  doesn't  despise 
whatever  fees  he  may  get.  He  probably  likes  applause 
and  appreciation.  Moreover,  he  is  glad  of  all  he.  can 
get,  in  the  way  of  hints  and  helps,  from  other  artists. 
And  so  forth.  But  the  'blessing'  of  his  life-work — the 
true  happiness  of  it — the  thing  that  really  pays  about  it 
all  is  what  he  'gives'  (his  best)  and  how  he  gives  it  (in 
the  best  way  he  can).  To  be  always  getting,  getting, 
getting  is  only  to  exist:  but  giving  means  living.  As  a 
hymn-writer  of  the  eighteenth  century  has  put  it, 
"That  man  may  last,  but  never  lives, 
Who  much  receives,  but  nothing  gives." 


The  Superior  Blessedness  of  Giving  163 

Yes,  there  is,  in  a  healthy  human,  a  sort  of  creative  in- 
stinct. We  wish  to  get  something  done,  and  not  just 
to  be  always  done-for.  We  rejoice  in  enterprise,  fully 
more  than  in  entertainment.  Indeed,  I  believe  that  is 
the  reason  why  some  men  wish  to  get  up  on  their  feet 
and  speak — instead  of  being  mere  listeners  all  the  time. 
In  many  cases  it  is  not  just  that  they  may  'hear  them- 
selves speak:'  it  is,  rather,  that  they  are  not  going  to  be 
content  with  being  passive  humans, — they  mean  to  be 
active  humans.  Sometimes,  of  course,  the  outcome  of 
that  sort  of  ambition  is  rather  tiresome  and  irritating. 
But,  my  friends,  I,  for  one,  am  always  ready  to  welcome 
anything  that  means  life,  anything  that  means  originality, 
anything  that  means  that  a  fellow  wishes  to  get  something 
done.  To  quote  Carlyie  again  (the  same  passage  that  I 
had  occasion  to  use  the  other  Sunday), — "Produce! 
Produce!  Were  it  but  the  pitifullest  infinitesimal  frac- 
tion of  a  Product,  produce  it,  in  God's  name!  'Tis  the 
utmost  thou  hast  in  thee?     Out  with  it,  then." 

Then,  what  about — say — a  physician  or  a  surgeon  de- 
voting his  time  and  skill  and  his  nerve-energy  and  his 
thought  to  the  saving  of  human  life?  Whoever,  in  such 
case,  'receives'  new  health  and  new  hope  is,  indeed,  to  be 
counted  happy.  But  is  the  'giver,'  in  such  case,  not  to  be 
counted  happy  also, — if  not,  indeed,  the  happier  of  the 
two?  I  read,  just  the  other  day,  of  an  American  Med- 
ical Missionary  in  Arabia  (Dr.  Paul  Harrison),  to  whom 
not  long  ago  an  Arab  brought  one  of  his  children  for 
treatment.  The  only  hope  of  a  cure  was  to  have  a 
transfusion  of  blood,  and  Dr.  Harrison  asked  the  father 
if  he  would  allow  a  vein  in  his  arm  to  be  opened  that 


104  The  Imperishable  Heart 

some  of  his  blood  might  be  passed  to  his  child.  As  one 
might  have  almost  expected  in  the  case  of  a  superstitious 
man  of  the  desert,  he  refused  unequivocally.  But  what 
was  his  astanishment  when  he  saw  Dr.  Harrison  quietly 
open  a  vein  in  his  own  arm  and  transmit  some  of  his 
blood  to  the  child?  Truly,  that  child  was  "blessed"  in 
'receiving'  the  new  life.  Ay,  but  what  about  the  'blessed- 
ness' of  the  man  who  'gave'  it?  Was  it  not — there  and 
then — even  "more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive?"  Yes, 
my  friends,  I  believe  it  was  "more  blessed.*' 

For,  what  is  like  the  content  of  that  wonderful 
Bible  word  "blessed?"  We  have  never  yet  pluck'd 
out  the  heart  of  its  mystery.'  You  will  not  find  the  full 
meaning  of  the  word  "blessed"  in  any  dictionary.  It 
cannot  be  precisely  defined.  Because  it  implies  something 
of  the  mystic  touch  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ — something  of 
"the  peace  of  God  which  passeth  all  understanding." 
Only,  I  think  I  can  tell — sometimes  in  fifteen  or  twenty 
minutes — whether  or  not  a  given  individual  is  "blessed." 
Some  men  and  women  I  know,  have  been  disappointed 
and  tried  so  as  almost  to  'beggar  description:'  neverthe- 
less there  is  no  slightest  doubt  that  they  are  "blessed." 
Other  men  and  women  I  know  are  apparently  prosperous 
and  care-free:  nevertheless  I  am  persuaded  that  they  are 
not  "blessed."  No,  it  is  neither  fortune  nor  favor  that 
makes  one  "blessed."  It  is  the  presence  in  oneself  of 
"the  mind  of  Christ;"  the  magnetism  of  the  Holy  Spirit; 
the  poise  and  peace  that  come  of  being  'in  tune  with  the 
Infinite/ 

•  Arrd  scr,  'my  friends, — to  advance  a  stage  now— "where 


The  Superior  Blessedness  of  Giving  165 

the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is"  there  is  no  possible  room  for 
doubt  that  "it  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive." 

For  instance,  what  about  a  truly  Christ-loving  and 
Christ-inspired  Mother?  How  much  her  children  owe 
to  her, — to  her  care,  to  her  sweet  and  sanctifying  influ- 
ence, to  her  nightly  prayers!  An  incalculable  debt,  that. 
Ay,  but  are  the  children  "more  blessed"  than  the  saintly 
mother?  I  trow  not.  For,  mark  you,  it  is  not  just  a 
question  of  happiness  (which,  we  are  sometimes  told,  is 
the  equivalent  of  'blessedness.')  No,  it's  something  far 
better — far  deeper — than  'happiness:'  it  is  'blessedness.' 

Then,  which  is  better:  to  have  a  friend,  or  to  be  a. 

friend?     To  my  thinking,  there  is  no  question  which  is 

better.     For   if,   according   to   Emerson,    "a   friend   may 

well  be  reckoned  the  masterpiece  of  Nature,"  then  what 

can   be  "more  blessed"   than  to  be  such  a  masterpiece? 

And  surely  to  be  to  a  fellow-human  a  very  friend   "in 

Christ's  stead"    is  the  very  acme  of  distinction   and  of 

blessedness.     Yes,   indeed,   to  "give"   in  such  wise  is  to 

have   the   "double   portion"   of   friendship's   blessing:   on 

the  principle  expressed  by  Russell  Lowell,  when  he  says, 

"Be  noble!  and  the  nobleness  which  lies 

In  other  men,  sleeping  but  never  dead, 

Will  rise  in  majesty  to  meet  thine  own." 

Or,  again,  "blessed"  as  it  is  to  "receive"  comfort  and 
encouragement  and  heart-of-grace,  is  it  not  even  "more 
blessed"  to  be  privileged  to  "give"  such  things?  It  is 
told  of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  the  great  portrait-painter  of 
the  1 8th  century,  whose  picture  entitled  'Simplicity'  all 
of  you  must  know  from  the  prints  of  it,  (it  is  told  of 
him)   that  once  when  he  was  appealed-to  by  a  younger 


1 66  The  Imperishable  Heart 

artist  who  was  in  financial  straights,  he  called  upon  the 
younger  man  and  ascertained  the  amount  of  his  indebted- 
ness. It  was  forty  pounds  English  (the  equivalent  of 
$200).  Well,  after  interviewing  the  young  man,  Sir 
Joshua  prepared  to  leave;  and  (according  to  the  'Percy 
Anecdotes,'  where  the  story  is  told)  "he  took  him  by 
the  hand,  and,  after  pressing  it  in  a  friendly  manner,  he 
hurried  off,  with  that  kind  of  triumph  in  his  heart  which 
the  exalted  of  human  kind  alone  can  experience,  while  the 
astonished  artist  found  that  he  had  left  in  his  hand  a 
bank-note  for  a  hundred  pounds"  (or,  $500).  Which 
was  really  the  happier  man?  Anyhow,  which  was  the 
more  "blessed"  of  the  two?  Was  it  not  the  'giver'  on 
that  occasion  ? — for  will  you  note  that  passage  in  the  story 
(referring  to  Sir  Joshua),  "With  that  kind  of  triumph 
in  his  heart  which  the  exalted  of  human  kind  alone  can 
experience!" 

And,  do  you  know,  my  friends,  I  am  sometimes  secretly 
half-glad  that  the  Christian  ministry  is  rather  an  under- 
paid profession.  For,  I  tell  you,  we  preachers  do  not 
wish  to  be  tempted  in  any  way  whatever  to  think  that  it 
is  more  blessed  to  receive  than  to  give.  This  is  the  "joy 
and  crown"  of  a  preacher's  work, — if  he  is  faithful  and 
true:  "to  give"  of  his  best,  in  the  very  spirit  of  the  Mas- 
ter Himself,  for  the  comfort  and  the  uplift  and  the  inspir- 
ation of  his  fellow-humans.  And  there  is  infinitely  more 
joy,  let  me  tell  you,  for  the  ambassador  of  Christ,  in 
that  'giving'  than  in  all  his  possible  getting.  Yes,  friends, 
I  have  been  gladdened  and  honored,  from  time  to  time, 
by  the  gratitude  (frequently  very  substantially  expressed) 
of  those  whom  I  have  tried  to  encourage  and  to  hearten. 


The  Superior  Blessedness  of  Giving  167 

And  in  some  instances  the  gratitude  has  obviously  been 
very  deep  and  heart-felt.  But  seldom  has  their  souls'  joy 
out-topped  mine  at  being  used  by  the  Father  to  give  "the 
garment  of  praise  for  the  spirit  of  heaviness:"  for  "it  is 
more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive." 

Let  me  tell  you  about  an  elderly  w^oman  in  my  former 
Church  over  the  water.  She  was  very  poor,  and  it  was 
my  duty  to  take  to  her,  periodically,  a  certain  sum  of 
money  which  was  her  due  according  to  our  Church's  pro- 
vision. Well,  on  each  of  these  occasions  she  gave  me  a 
small  sum  of  money  for  the  Missionary  work  of  the 
Church, — because,  spite  of  her  humble  circumstances,  she 
had  the  international  mind  and  the  world-vision.  I  almost 
felt,  at  first,  as  if  I  were  stealing — to  take  that  contribu- 
tion (small  as  it  was,  comparatively).  But  it  was  not 
long  ere  I  discovered  that  that  woman  would  have  been 
more  chagrined  had  I  refused  her  missionary  contribu- 
tion than  had  I  appeared  at  her  home  on  the  day  expected 
without  her  allowance.  She  believed — she  knew — that  "it 
is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive".  Yes,  she  often 
experienced  'that  kind  of  triumph  in  the  heart  which  the 
exalted  of  human  kind  alone  can  experience'. 

And,  my  friends,  has  it  not  been  proved  beyond  all 
possibility  of  dispute  that  the  'giving'  Church  is  the 
Church  that  is  "blessed?"  Not  necessarily  the  wealthy 
Church.  No,  no:  but  the  Church  which  knows  what 
it  is  to  'give'  both  prayers  and  pence,  as  well  as  to  enjoy 
these  things:  the  Church  which  looks  beyond  its  own  cir- 
cle of  folk,  and  plans  by  every  means  it  knows  for  the 
whole  Community  in  which  it  stands  and  for  the  whole 
World  to  which  it  is  related  "in  Christ:"  the  Church 


1 68  The  Imperishable  Heart 

which  understands — and  acts  upon  the  understanding — 
that  *'the  more  religion  we  export,  the  more  we  possess," 
for  "love  grows  by  exercise." 

"I  have  showed  you,"  says  St.  Paul,  then,  "(I  have 
showed   you)      .     .     .     how   that     ...     ye  ought     . 

.  .  to  remember  the  words  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  how 
HE  said,  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive."  And, 
O  my  friends,  how  "the  LORD  JESUS"  practised  as 
He  preached!  How  He  lived  out  the  principle  of  these 
words  of  His!  He  'gave,'  and  'gave,'  and  'gave.'  He 
gave  His  life.  He  "gave  Himself."  What  princely 
'giving!'     And,  how  infinitely  "blessed!" 

Ay,  we  say,  with  the  angelic  voices  of  the  Book  of 
Revelation,  "Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain  to  re- 
ceive power,  and  riches,  and  wisdom,  and  strength,  and 
honour,  and  glory,  and  blessing."  And  we  count  Him 
"blessed,"  we  are  glad  to  count  Him  "blessed,"  to  be 
'receiving'  these  things.  But,  brethren,  the  'blessedness' 
of  our  Saviour's  'receiving'  the  homage  of  men  and  of 
angels  is  not  to  be  compared  to  the  'blessedness'  of  His 
'giving*  (His  'giving  Himself) — with  all  that  it  has 
meant — and  means  today — for  human  hearts  and  for  the 
'touching'  of  human  life  "to  immortality."  And  so,  was 
it  not  said,  long  before  Christ  came  to  earth,  "And  men 
shall  be  blessed  in  Him"  and  "all  nations  shall  call  HIM 
Blessed"? 


XVII 

DISHONORABLE  EXEMPTION  FROM 
SERVICE 

"And  the  officers  shall  speak  further  unto  the  people,  and 
they  shall  say.  What  man  is  there  that  is  fearful 
and  fainthearted?  Let  him  go  and  return  unto 
his  house,  lest  his  brethren's  heart  faint  as  well  as 
his.'' — Deuteronomy  XX,  8. 

T  TELL  you,  my  friends,  these  old  Hebrew  documents 
are  well  worth  the  reading:  even  those  of  them  which, 
on  a  first  perusal,  appear  all  too  antiquated  and  uninter- 
esting. Here,  for  example, — in  this  chapter  of  Deu- 
teronomy— we  have  an  excerpt  (so  to  speak)  from  the 
Army  Orders  of  the  Hebrews.  The  children  of  Israel 
were,  at  the  time  referred  to,  "a  camp"  rather  than  "a 
kingdom, — entering  upon  an  enemy's  country,  and  not 
yet  settled  in  a  country  of  their  own;  and,  besides  the 
war  they  were  now  entering  upon  in  order  to  their  set- 
tlement, even  after  their  settlement  they  could  neither 
protect  nor  enlarge  their  coast  without  hearing  the  alarms 
of  war.  It  was  therefore  needful  that  they  should  have 
directions  given  them  in  their  military  affairs."  They  are 
no  sealed  and  secret  orders,  either,  that  are  given  here; 
but  open  and  for  all. 

The  chief  point  seems  to  be  that  they  are  on  no  account 
to  be  afraid:  and  the  call-to-courage  is  based  on  the  as- 
surance that  GOD  would  be  with  them. 

Then,  certain  exemptions  are  allowed:  mostly  in  favor 
169 


170  The  Imperishable  Heart 

of  those  who  happen,  on  the  approach  of  war,  to  have 
some  important  undertakings  on  hand — especially  in  the 
way  of  home-making  (an  illustration,  by  the  way,  of  the 
humaneness  of  the  Mosaic  code). 

Then  comes  another  kind  of  exemption — rather  a  dis- 
honorable exemption  for  those  whom  it  should  concern: 
the  exemption  of  the  "fearful  and  fainthearted."  They 
were  not  wanted  in  the  ranks:  "And  the  officers  shall 
speak  further  unto  the  people,  and  they  shall  say,  What 
man  is  there  that  is  fearful  and  fainthearted?  let  him  go 
and  return  unto  his  house,  lest  his  brethren's  heart  faint 
as  well  as  his  heart." 

There  are,  as  you  are  aware,  various  tests  of 
soldiership  proposed  in  most  civilized  countries.  A 
man  must  not  be  over  a  certain  age,  nor  under 
a  certain  height.  He  must  be  a  healthy  human:  in  par- 
ticular, should  have  good  teeth  and  good  eye-sight,  and 
should  have  his  feet  in  good  walking-trim.  And  so 
forth.  But  there  are  other  tests  of  soldiership  besides 
these, — more  spiritual  tests.  For  instance,  it  has  been 
said  that  'a  soldier's  first  duty  is  obedience,  and  his  sec- 
ond duty  obedience,  and  his  third  duty  obedience.'  The 
soldier  should  be  "arm'd  with  resolution."  And  doesn't 
Shakespeare  say, 

"Ambition, 

"The  soldier's  virtue,  rather  makes  choice  of  loss, 

"Than  gain  which  darkens  him?" 
In  other  words,  besides  good  eye-sight  and  good  teeth  and 
so  many  cubits  of  stature,  the  true  soldier  must  have  pluck 
and   courage   and   stout-heartedness.     The   "fearful   and 


Dishonorable  Exemption  From  Service  17 1 

faint-hearted"  are  better  at  home.  They  are  perhaps  not 
much  use  at  home,  either, — these  cravens:  but  on  the 
battlefield  they  are  hopeless.  No  use  themselves,  and  dis- 
couragers of  others:  "let  him  go  and  return  unto  his 
house,  lest  his  brethren's  heart  faint  as  well  as  his  heart." 
No  room  in  the  army  for  the  men  of  'buts'  and  'ifs': 
w^hether  the  army  be  the  battalions  of  a  nation  or  the 
battalions  of  Christ's  Kingdom.  .  .  .  ''The  fearful 
and  fainthearted"  have  lost  more  battles  than  have  been 
lost  through  lack  of  men  or  lack  of  munitions.  And,  the 
''fearful  and  fainthearted"  have  done  more  to  retard  the 
progress  of  the  Kingdom  of  God  on  earth  than  the  oppo- 
sition of  the  devil  himself. 

You  remember  how  Gideon — Israel's  famous  'judge' — 
thinned  out  his  army.  Taking  the  hint  from  God  Him- 
self, he  made  up  his  mind  to  have  picked  men  only — out 
of  a  following  of  thirty-two  thousand.  A  proclamation 
was  made  accordingly,  in  these  terms, — "Whosoever  is 
fearful  and  afraid,  let  him  return  and  depart  early  from 
mount  Gilead."  "And,"  we  read,  "there  returned  of 
the  people  twenty  and  two  thousand;  and  there  re- 
mained ten  thousand."  But  yet  a  further  test  was  pro- 
posed; until  ultimately  only  Gideon  and  his  "three  hun- 
dred" were  left — tried  and  not  "found  wanting" — "And 
the  LORD  said  unto  Gideon,  By  the  three  hundred  men 

.  .  .  will  I  save  you  .  .  .  ;  and  let  all  the 
other  people  go  every  man  unto  his  place." 

It  is  told  of  a  famous  general  that,  on  one  occasion, 
wishing  to  inspire  his  men  with  something  of  his  own 
courage  and  determination,  he  took  his  position  in  the 
forefront  of  the  battle,  thus  exposing  himself  to  the  hot- 


17^  The  Imperishable  Heart 

test  fire  .  .  .  An  affectionate  but  over-cautious 
friend,  seeing  him  in  such  peril,  darted  forward,  seized 
him  by  the  arm,  and  exclaimed,  'Retire,  I  beseech  you, 
from  this  shower  of  bullets,  or  you  will  be  a  dead  man!' 
'Sir,'  said  the  general,  releasing  himself  from  his  friend's 
grasp,  'if  I  had  been  afraid  of  bullets,  I  should  have 
quitted  the  profession  of  a  soldier  long  ago.' 

I  was  reading  lately  about  a  Scottish  chaplain  with 
the  forces  in  the  north  of  France.  During  one  of  the 
severest  and  bloodiest  fights  of  the  war  in  that  region  he 
was  being  convoyed  by  an  officer  through  a  stretch  of 
wood,  where  he  heard  the  crackle  of  the  bullets  among 
the  trees  about  his  very  ears.  He  didn't  quite  like  it, 
and  said  something  to  that  effect  to  the  officer;  but  the 
officer  only  replied,  Scotch  fashion,  "Tut,  man,  the  bul- 
lets that  ye  hear  '11  no  do  ye  ony  harm." 

And  then,  in  a  fine  passage  of  Shakespeare's  'Macbeth' 
you  have  the  test  of  true  soldiership  brought  out  by  the 
masterhand : — 

(Ross)   "Your  son,  my  lord,  has  paid  a  soldier's  debt: 
He  only  lived  but  till  he  was  a  man: 
The   which    no    sooner    had    his    prowess    con- 
firmed 
In  the  unshrinking  station  where  he  fought, 
But  like  a  man  he  died." 
(Siward)  "Then  he  is  dead?" 

(Ross)   "Ay  and  brought  off  the  field:  your  cause  of 
sorrow 
Must  not  be  measured  by  his  worth,  for  then 
It  hath  no  end." 
(Siward)  "Had  he  his  hurts  before?" 


Dishonorable  Exemption  From  Service  173 

(Ross)   "Ay,  on  the  front." 

( Siward )  "Why  then,  God's  soldier  be  he ! 

Had  I  as  many  sons  as  I  have  hairs, 
I  would  not  wish  them  to  a  fairer  death."   .   .   . 

"Had  he  his  hurts  before?     .     .     .     Ay,  on  the  front." 
There's  a  test  for  us,  my  friends!     Are  we  sulking — or 
'marching  breast-forward'?     Are  we  complaining  of  our 
opportunities — or    doing   our    level    best   just   where    we 
are?     Are  we  quarreling  with  our  tools — instead  of  with 
our   skill,    and   with   our   lack-of-diligence,    and   lack-of- 
fervor,  and  what  not?     Can  we  say,  amid  all  our  diffi- 
culties and  disappointments  and   dangers, 
"Out  of  the  night  that  covers  me. 
Black  as  the  pit  from  pole  to  pole, 
I  thank  whatever  gods  may  be 
For  my  unconquerable  soul. 

"In  the  fell  clutch  of  circumstance 
I  have  not  winced  nor  cried  aloud : 
Under  the  bludgeons  of  chance 
My  head  is  bloody,  but  unbowed. 

"Beyond  the  place  of  wrath  and  tears 
Looms  but  the  horror  of  the  shade : 
And  yet  the  menace  of  the  years 

Finds,  and  shall  find,  me  unafraid"  ? 

Ay,  "nothing  weakens  the  hands,"  says  an  old  writer 
on  this  very  passage,  "(nothing  weakens  the  hands)  so 
much  as  that  which  makes  the  heart  tremble."  We  have 
much  need,  then,   (every  one  of  us)  to  ask  God  to  ful- 


174  The  Imperishable  Heart 

fill  in  us  His  promise  to  'strengthen  our  hearts.'  For 
there  are  serious  problems  to  be  thought-out  these  days, 
and  great  things  to  be  done,  by  the  citizens  of  this  Re- 
public: especially  by  those  of  us  who  reckon  ourselves  cit- 
izens, as  well,  of  Christ's  Kingdom.  It  is  no  time  for  a 
dilettante  type  of  Christianity:  it  is  the  red-blooded  type 
that  the  times  call  for.  "Preparedness"  or  no  "prepared- 
ness" (as  the  word  is  being  used  just  now  of  army  and 
navy),  we  must  be  prepared  to  be  'good  soldiers  of 
Jesus  Christ,'  prepared  to  be  loyal  to  His  Spirit  of  Love 
and  Self-giving,  prepared  to  refuse  to  lower  the  Flag  of 
the  Gospel — to  which,  you  and  I  surely  hold,  every  one 
of  the  world's  flags  (the  'Stars  and  Stripes'  with  the  rest 
of  them)  must  dip  in  acknowledgment  of  CHRIST'S 
Mastery. 

Mark  you,  I  am  not  one  of  those  who  are  scared  by  a 
premonition  of  the  imminent  invasion  of  this  Country. 
I  am  thinking,  just  now,  along  other  lines  (albeit  I  trust 
I  am  not  careless  about  our  national  security).  I  am 
wondering  "what  spirit"  the  people  of  this  Country  are 
going  to  evince,  and  are  going  to  be  moved  by  and  ruled 
by,  in  the  days  right  ahead  of  us.  And  I  am  wondering 
whether,  if  it  is  to  be  the  Spirit  of  CHRIST,  we  shall 
have  the  courage  to  be  true  to  it  at  all  hazards — to  walk 
"with  this  high  goal  in  sight, 
"To  speak,  to  do,  to  sanction  only  Right, 

"Though  very  heaven  should  fall!"     .     .    . 
And  so,   "what  man   is  there  that  is   fearful  and  faint- 
hearted? let  him  go  and  return  unto  his  house,  lest  his 
brethren's  heart  faint,  as  well  as  his." 


Dishonorable  Exemption  From  Service  175 

Ah  yes:  for  the  worst  of  It  is  that  'fear'  is  catching — 
'faintheartedness'  contagious:  "lest  his  brethren's  heart 
faint  as  well  as  his." 

My  friends,  do  we  half  realize  how  much  our  moods 
and  manners  affect  our  companions-hy-xht-w^y:  how 
apt  our  faith  or  our  'fear'  is  to  make  them  faithful  or 
"fearful"?     "For  none  of  us  liveth   unto  himself:     . 

.  .  and  whether  one  member  suffer,  all  the  members 
suffer  with  it;  or  one  member  be  honored,  all  the  mem- 
bers rejoice  with  it."  The  truth  is,  every  grace  of  char- 
acter and  every  fault  of  character  "goes  to  work  in  the 
world,"  and  makes  its  impression.  If  you  are  generous, 
you  are  silently  persuading  your  companions-of-the-way 
to  generosity.  If  you  are  industrious,  you  are  silently  in- 
viting and  moving  them  to  get  busy.  If  you  are  cheerful 
and  hopeful,  you  are  lightening  their  faces  and  their 
hearts.  While,  on  the  other  hand,  If  you  are  stingy,  you 
make  other  people  stingy.  If  you  are  a  'slacker'  and  a 
'quitter,'  you  Infect  other  people  with  the  same  poison.  If 
you  are  morose  and  allow  yourself  to  be  too  easily  de- 
pressed, you  becloud  and  depress  'the  other  fellow.'  Some- 
times, perhaps,  a  man's  faults  and  vices  drive  us,  by  a  re- 
coil of  digust,  to  consider  and  mend  our  own  ways:  but 
fully  oftener — and  more  especially  In  the  case  of  taints 
and  twists  of  disposition — we  catch  the  Infection.  And 
so,  "what  man  Is  there  that  Is  fearful  and  fainthearted? 
let  him  go  and  return  unto  his  house,  lest  his  brethren's 
heart  faint  as  well  as  his." 

Ay,  that's  the  trouble  of  it.  If  our  moral  and  spiritual 
diseases  were  self-contained  and  non-contagious,  it 
wouldn't  be  so  bad :  but  they  have  their  bacilli,  which  leap 


176  The  Imperishable  Heart 

out  (the  little  imps!)  wherever  they  think  they  can  fasten. 
"Destroy  not  him  with  thy  meat,"  says  St.  Paul,  you 
remember,  in  a  well-known  passage  where  he  is  dealing 
with  the  contagiousness  of  conduct,  ** (destroy  not  him 
with  thy  meat)  for  whom  Christ  died."  Similarly,  by  a 
fair  implication,  "Destroy  not  him  with  thy  pride,  or  thy 
crankiness,  or  thy  cowardice,  or  thy  faithlessness, — for 
whom  Christ  died." 

"Let  us  therefore  follow  after  the  things  which  make 
for  peace,  and  things  wherewith  one  may  edify  another." 

And  now,  my  friends,  just  a  word  or  two  in  closing 
on  How  to  Deal  with  the  "fearful  and  fainthearted." 

There  are  two  ways  of  dealing  with  them.  We  may 
call  them,  respectively,  the  Quick  way  and  the  Quicken- 
ing way;    or  the  Mandatory  way  and  the  Magnetic  way. 

The  quick,  or  mandatory,  way  is  the  way  spoken  of  in 
our  text:  "what  man  is  there  that  is  fearful  and  faint- 
hearted? let  him  go  and  return  unto  his  house."  He  is 
not  wanted.  Let  him  get  out.  Yes,  on  occasion  that  is 
the  only  way  to  deal  with  certain  types  of  people:  be  it 
'faintheartedness'  that  is  their  fault,  or  be  it  frivolity 
in  presence  of  serious  issues,  or  be  it  profane  or  unclean 
speech,  or  what  not.  That  is,  on  occasion,  the  only  way 
to  deal  with  them, — to  tell  them  peremptorily  that  they 
are  not  wanted.  It  may  be  hard,  sometimes,  both  for 
the  man  who  is  'fired'  and  for  the  man  who  'fires'  him. 
But  if  it  is  necessary, 

"then   't  were  well 
"It   were    done   quickly." 

"But,  brethren,  looking,  to  the  farther  issues,  there,  is^  "a. 


Dishonorable  Exemption  From  Service  177 

more  excellent  way:"  the  quickening,  or  magnetic,  way. 
You  have  it  suggested  in  that  most  beautiful  and  most 
heartening  chapter  of  Isaiah  (the  XXX Vth) — on  this 
wise,  "Strengthen  ye  the  weak  hands,  and  confirm  the 
feeble  knees.  Say  to  them  that  are  of  a  fearful  heart,  Be 
strong,  fear  not."  You  have  it  outlined,  again,  in  one  of 
St.  Paul's  Epistles — on  this  wise,  "Now  we  exhort  you, 
brethren,  warn  them  that  are  unruly,  comfort  the  feeble- 
minded, support  the  weak,  be  patient  toward  all  men." 
It  Is,  In  fact,  the  Gospel  way  of  dealing  with  people, — espe- 
cially those  who  are  naturally  sensitive  and  timid  and 
hopeless — and  all  who  are  easily  discouraged.  It  is,  I 
say,  the  Gospel  way  of  dealing  with  such  folk:  quicken- 
ing and  magnetic, — getting  such  folk  made-over  and  en- 
ergized anew  by  the  Infusion  of  the  grace  of  God.  Ah 
yes,  my  friends,  let  us  never  forget  that — to  use  His  own 
words — our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  came  to  our  feeble  and 
broken  humanity  "not  ...  to  destroy,  but  to  ful- 
fill;"— "not  to  condemn,  but  to  save."  He  had  special 
regard  to,  and  He  took  pains  to  seek-out  and  re-magnetize 
and  to  give-new-heart-of-grace-to,  the  "least"  and  the 
"last"  and  the  "lost."  Sometimes  we  are  like  to  be  very 
Impatient  and  very  drastic  with  the  "fearful  and  faint- 
hearted;" ay,  and  with  hosts  of  other  people  who  are 
weak  just  where  we,  perhaps,  are  strong.  Well,  my 
friends,  suppose  we  try  the  "more  excellent  way," — the 
way  of  the  Master, — the  Gospel  way, — the  way  that  St. 
Paul  indicates  when  he  says,  "To  the  weak  became  I  as 
weak,  that  I  might  gain  the  weak."  And  mark  you 
this,  my  friends ;  we  must  never  lose  faith  in  the  wonder- 
working  power   of   Grace — in   the   power  of   the   Spirit 


178  The  Imperishable  Heart 

of  Christ  to  remake.  There  are  hundreds  of  men  and 
women  in  the  world  today  who  are  saying,  with  great 
variety  of  content  to  the  words  indeed — but  all  in  praise 
of  redeeming  grace,  (there  are  hundreds  of  men  and 
women  .  .  .  who  are  saying),  "One  thing  I  know, 
that,  whereas  I  was  blind,  now  I  see."  Brethren,  in 
dealing  with  ourselves  and  w^ith  our  near  comrades  and 
with  the  whole  human  situation, — ^"if  GOD  be  for  us!" — 
what  an  Ally  to  have — even  HE  Who  says,  "Behold, 
I  am  the  LORD,  the  God  of  all  flesh:  is  there  anything 
too  hard  for  ME?" 


XVIII 
REFRESHMENT  OF  SPIRIT 

"For  they   have  refreshed   my  spirit.'' — I   Corinthians 
XVI,  i8. 

C*  T.  PAUL  closes  each  of  his  Epistles  with  a  chapter, 
or  part  of  a  chapter,  composed  of  greetings — expres- 
sions of  kind  remembrance  and  good  will.  Some  of  these 
'greetings'-sections  contain  quite  a  number  of  proper 
names, — not  a  few  of  which  are  the  names  of  men  and 
women  who  are  not  elsewhere  referred  to.  But,  if  you 
read  with  seeing  eyes  and  'understanding  hearts,'  you  dis- 
cover that  the  'greetings'-sections  of  St.  Paul's  Epistles 
are  not  just  catalogues  of  proper  names.  They  are  more 
and  better  than  that.  They  contain  some  beautiful 
touches, — touches  of  spiritual  discernment  and  spiritual 
appreciation,  and  some  wonderfully  astute  and  hearten- 
ing revelations  of  character.  It  would  be  a  pity,  then,  to 
pass  them  over  lightly. 

Here,  for  instance,  speaking  of  a  certain  trio  of  indi- 
viduals by  name — Stephanas  and  Fortunatus  and  Achai- 
cus — he  says  he  is  glad  of  their  coming  (that  is,  their 
coming  from  the  Church  at  Corinth,  to  which  the  Epis- 
tle is  about  to  be  sent,  to  the  place  where  the  Epistle  is 
being  written — probably  Ephesus)  :  **I  am  glad  of  the 
coming  of"  these  men;  ''for,"  he  adds,  "they  have  re- 
freshed my  spirit." 

Now,  what  do  we  know  of  these  three  men?  Well, 
of  Stephanas  we  are  told  that  he  and  his  "house"  were 

179 


l8o  The  Imperishable  Heart 

"the  first  fruits  of  Achaia:"  that  is  to  say,  the  first  fam- 
ily in  Southern  Greece  to  join  the  Church.  Of  the  other 
two — Fortunatus  and  Achaicus — we  know  nothing  except 
what  is  said  here. 

No  great  material  for  a  triple  biography!  No:  but 
what  is  said  here  of  these  three  men  is  to  their  everlast- 
ing credit  and  honor;  and  their  names  are  on  our  lips 
today  as  the  names  of  three  men  who  were  ''boosters," 
who  put  heart  into  a  fourth  man — of  greater  caliber 
than  themselves.  By  their  "coming"  to  the  Apostle — 
hard-wrought  and  weary  as  he  probably  was — (by  their 
"coming"  to  the  Apostle)  at  a  particular  season,  and — 
we  may  assume — by  their  good  report  of  Christian 
progress  in  the  city  of  Corinth,  and  by  their  wise  and 
friendly  words  they  'refreshed  his  spirit' — refreshed  the 
spirit  of  a  great  and  good  and  useful  man. 

They  did  well — both  for  him  and  for  themselves,  and 
for  their  common  Master.  "For  they  have  refreshed  my 
spirit." 

Yes,  mark  you,  if  those  who  are  not  so  able  nor  so 
proficient-in-character-and-usefulness  as  you  are,  are  ad- 
vantaged by  your  sympathy  and  your  help;  those  also 
who  are  abler  and  better  than  you  are,  are  advantaged 
by  these  things.  They  are  not,  as  you  might  suppose,  in- 
dependent of  you  and  your  encouragement.  And  so  it  has 
been  said,  by  a  very  discerning  soul,  "To  illuminate  for 
an  instant  the  depths  of  a  deep  soul,  to  cheer  those  who 
bear  by  sympathy  the  burdens  of  so  many  sorrow-laden 
hearts  and  suffering  lives,  is  to  me  a  blessing  and  a 
precious  privilege.  There  is  a  sort  of  religious  joy  in 
helping  to  renew  the  strength  and  courage  of  noble  minds. 


Refreshment  of  Spirit  l8l 

We  are  surprised  to  find  ourselves  the  possessors  of  a 
power  of  which  we  are  not  worthy,  and  we  long  to  exer- 
cise it  purely  and  seriously."  How  beautifully  true !  And 
what  a  tribute  to  the  spiritual  possibilities  of  usefulness 
of  those  who  may  be  of  meager  equipment  and  of  humble 
station ! 

"They  have  refreshed  my  spirit:"  they  have  encouraged 
me:  they  have  given  me  heartening  (and  I  needed  it). 

How  much  we  all  need  that  type  of  'refreshment!' 
Spiritual  'refreshment.'  Some  new  uplift.  Some  new 
elasticity  of  soul.  A  fresh  draught  of  the  "water  of  life." 
For  the  world  is  "sore  with  many  sorrows,  many  blows, 
and  we  know  not  how  much  good  a  tender  voice  and  a 
soft  hand  may  do." 

The  Apostle  does  not  say  precisely  how  these  three  men 
'refreshed  his  spirit.'  He  simply  says,  "I  am  glad  of 
their  coming;  ...  for  that  which  was  lacking  on 
your  part  they  have  supplied"  (in  other  words,  their 
being  with  me  is  just  as  if  you  were  all  with  me  in 
heartening  fellowship ) . 

"I  am  glad  of  their  coming."  Just  their  "coming." 
O  yes,  it  is  wonderful  how  little  is  needed,  sometimes, 
to  'refresh  our  spirits.'  Suppose  I  read  you  a  short  let- 
ter I  received  the  other  day.  It  reached  me  last  Tuesday 
morning,  and  is  from  Dr.  Butler — whose  talk  from  this 
platform  a  few  weeks  ago  was  such  a  blessing  to  us  all : — 
"January  i8th,  19 15,  (that  was  Monday)  :  Dear  Mr. 
Buchanan,  Your  men  have  a  rich  treat  in  store  in  hearing 
tomorrow  night!    Wish  I  could  be  there  to  hear 


1 82  The  Imperishable  Heart 

him  again.  I  go  to  Cleveland  next  Sunday  to  assist  in 
the  campaign  for  Relief  and  Sustentation.  Shall  not  soon 
forget  the  delightful  day  I  spent  with  you  and  your  peo- 
ple. Very  kind  personal  regards, — sincerely  yours, 
Charles  S.  Butler."  Dr.  Butler  didn't  need,  by  any 
means,  to  write  that  letter;  but  I  am  glad  he  did,  for 
it  "refreshed  my  spirit."  The  spontaneity  of  it,  the  kind- 
ness of  it,  the  underlying  assumption  that  a  great  group 
of  us  are  all  engaged  in  the  same  work — and  need  the 
same  sort  of  heartening — and  that  we  are  glad  to  rejoice 
with  one  another  when  it  is  time  to  rejoice :  these  things 
appealed  to  me  like  the  sound  of  fine  music  or  like  an 
exhilarating  breeze   from   the   hills. 

I  have  said,  mark  you,  that  the  Doctor  didnt  need  to 
write  that  letter.  But,  brethren,  many  times  it  is  the 
things  we  don't  need  to  do,  but  which  we  do  for  love's 
sake — for  Christ's  sake,  that  are  the  best  things  we  do, 
and  the  most  distinctively  Christian.  If  we  only  did  what 
we  needed  to  do  in  this  world,  life  would  be  a  mighty 
bare  and  lustreless  and  unexhilarating  affair.  You  re- 
member how  Jesus  said,  "If  ye  love  them  which  love 
you  .  .  .  and  if  ye  salute  your  brethren  only,  what 
do  ye  more  than  others?"  In  other  words,  if  we  respect 
our  natural  affinities  only,  and  if  we  do  only  what  we  are 
obliged  to  do — to  save  our  skins  or  to  keep  up  our  repu- 
tation, and  so  forth;  why!  then  we  are  not  rising  above 
the  common  level  of  unregenerate  humanity.  We  must 
go  at  least  one  better  than  that,  if  we  have  felt  the  touch 
of  the  Spirit  of  Christ.  Or,  as  Christ  Himself  put  it, 
in  the  same  talk  from  which  I  have  just  quoted,  "Whoso- 
ever shall  compel  thee  to  go  a  mile,  go  with  him  twain." 


Refreshment  of  Spirit  183 

Yes,  ft  is  going  the  second  mile — when  we  do  not  need  to, 
as  a  matter  of  obligation — (it  is  going  the  second  mile) 
that  justifies  us  in  saying  that  "we  have  the  mind  of 
Christ."     .     .     . 

"They  have  refreshed  my  spirit''  Think  and  speak  as 
we  will  about  the  apparent  materialism  of  people,  what  the 
vast  majority  of  normal  men  and  women  most  long-for 
is  'refreshment  of  spirit,'  uplift  of  soul,  heartening.  They 
do  not  wish  to  be  insulted  by  being  perpetually  appealed- 
to  on  the  lower  plane.  They  do  not  wish  to  be  talked- 
to  and  treated  as  if  they  were  mere  animals — 

"sheep  or  goats 
"That  nourish  a  blind  life  within  the  brain." 
They  have  souls,  they  "hold  of  God" :  and  they  wish  to 
be  dealt-with  accordingly. 

To  be  sure,  refreshment  of  body  is  of  great  moment. 
Indeed,  many  a  time  the  immediate  and  obvious  way  to 
refresh  a  man's  spirit  is  to  give  him  some  material  assist- 
ance,— to  give  him  a  good  square  meal,  or  to  let  him  have 
a  few  dollars.  And  there  are  some  people  to  whom  we 
should  be  ashamed  to  make  the  spiritual  appeal  until  we 
have  contrived  to  make  their  surroundings  or  their  work- 
ing conditions  more  congenial  and  more  human. 

But,  brethren,  every  human  knows  perfectly  well  that 
"Man  doth  not  live  by  bread  alone. 
But  all  that  cometh  from  the  throne" ; 
that  he  needs  the  food  of  the  soul. 

And,  I  tell  you,  some  of  you  who  have  perhaps  not 
studied  human  nature  as  I  have  would  wonder 
how  keen  is  the  human  soul-hunger,  and  how  grateful 


184  The  Imperishable  Heart 

most  folk  are  for  the  higher  appeals  and  the  deeper  con- 
solations. Ay,  let  us  never  forget  that  there  is  in  this 
world  a  great  deal  of  spiritual  weariness,  of  dishearten- 
ment;  and  the  gladdest  thing  many  persons  can  say  of 
their  "helpers  and  friends"  is  that  'they  have  refreshed 
their  spirits.' 

Unfortunately  there  are  some  individuals  here  and 
there  busy  doing  the  very  opposite  thing.  Instead  of  're- 
freshing the  spirits'  of  their  fellows,  they  are  doing  their 
worst  to  wear  them  out,  to  tire  them  beyond  endurance, 
to  break  them.  By  perpetually  nagging  and  kicking,  or 
by  one  heinous  device  after  another,  they  are  trying  to  dis- 
courage and  to  down  people.  And  in  some  cases  the 
thing  is  being  done  with  deliberately  devilish  diligence. 
Needless  to  say,  it  is  wicked — the  very  worst  kind  of 
wickedness;  and  one  is  almost  afraid  to  think  what  will 
be  the  fate  of  such  inhuman  schemers.  Only,  there  is  this 
to  say — thank  God:  that  for  every  two  or  three  individ- 
uals who  are  discouraged  and  downed  by  such  scoundrel- 
ism,  there  are  dozens  who  do  not  heed  it,  who  are,  in 
fact,  but  confirmed  and  put  on  their  mettle  by  it.  Doesn't 
St.  Paul  say,  in  this  same  chapter,  "A  great  door  and 
effectual  is  opened  unto  me,  and  there  are  many  adver- 
saries?" Not  ''but  there  are  many  adversaries;"  but 
''and  there  are  many  adversaries," — as  if  the  existence  of 
the  "adversaries"  were  a  spur  and  an  incentive  to  go  in 
and  win. 

Yes,  but  it  would  hardly  do  if  there  were  none  but 
"adversaries."  Thank  God,  then,  for  the  "helpers  and 
friends  of  mankind:"  those  who  are  always  for  cheering 
us  on  our  way  and  giving  us  a  lift,  those  who  "own     . 


Refreshment  of  Spirit  1 85 

.  .  those  welcome  faces  That  bring  sunshine  to  life's 
shadowed  places,"  those  who  'refresh  our  spirits.'  They 
are  to  us,  indeed,  **in  Christ's  stead", — channels  of  His 
grace,  of  His  counsel  and  His  consolation.  "Blessed  are 
the  peacemakers:  for  they  shall  be  called  the  children  of 
God." 

Ay,  "they  shall  be  called  the  children  of  GOD."  For 
God  Himself — "the  Father  of  mercies  and  the  God  of 
all  comfort" — (God  Himself)  is  the  great  Refresher  of 
our  spirits.  In  a  kindly  variety  of  ways  HE  is  hearten- 
ing us  and  encouraging  us  day  by  day.  "Blessed  be  the 
Lord,  who  daily  loadeth  us  with  benefits,  even  the  God 
of  our  salvation." 

No  doubt  there  are  many  happenings  which  make  it 
seem  as  if  the  Almighty  were  trying  to  weary  us  and  to 
crush  our  spirits ;  and  some  people  are  hard  hit.  But,  my 
friends,  if  there  is  one  thing  to  be  guarded  against  with 
all  our  powers  of  assiduousness,  it  is  focussing  all  our  at- 
tention on  the  trials  and  tragedies  of  life.  Let  us  keep 
our  faces  to  the  light  as  much  as  we  can,  and  see  the 
gifts  and  opportunities  and  joys  of  life.  Why!  there  are 
the  days,  which,  as  Emerson  says,  "are  ever  divine,     . 

.  .  of  the  least  pretension,  and  of  the  greatest  ca- 
pacity, of  anything  that  exists."  There  are  "the  friendly 
stars"  (as  they  have  been  called).  There  are  the  sights 
and  sounds  and  scents,  and  the  far  horizons,  of  "God's 
Out-of-doors."  There  is  the  gift  of  sleep, — as  free  to 
the  beggar  as  to  the  prince.  And  there  is  Music,  which 
is  "Love  in  search  of  a  word."  And  there  are  our 
Friends,  and  our  Books,  and  our  Pictures.     And,  if  there 


1 86  The  Imperishable  Heart 

be  Good  Health  besides,  is  not  our  cup  'running  over'? 
Truly,  the  "times  of  refreshing  from  the  presence  of  the 
Lord"  are  with  us  yet, — every  day  and  every  night.  And 
so,   as   the   familiar   Psalm   has   it,   *'It   is   a   good   thing 

.  .  .  O  most  High,  to  show  forth  Thy  loving  kind- 
ness in  the  morning,  and  Thy  faithfulness  every  night." 

And  then,  best  of  all  the  Father's  gifts  of  encourage- 
ment, and  back  of  them  all,  is  the  Everlasting  Gospel :  the 
Gospel  of  forgiveness  and  restoration  for  the  sin-sick  and 
the  sin-stained,  the  Gospel  of  liberty  for  the  enthralled, 
the  Gospel  of  good-cheer  for  the  disappointed,  the  Gospel 
of  consolation  for  the  bereaved,  the  Gospel  of  opportunity 
— too — for  the  strong  and  the  alert.  "For  they  have 
refreshed  my  spirit."  How — think  you — did  they  're- 
fresh his  spirit?'  Not  apart  from  CHRIST,  you  may  be 
sure.  O  yes,  my  friends,  if  only  the  great  body  of 
Christ's  men  and  women  understood  better  the  beauty 
and  the  satisfaction  and  the  power  of  the  Christian  Gos- 
pel, and  if  only  they  would  dare  to  apply  the  Gospel  to 
the  human  situation  in  all  the  deepness  and  in  all  the 
wideness  of  its  reach;  there  would  be  far  fewer  weary 
and  discouraged  souls  in  the  world  than  there  are  today, 
and  far  more  people  rejoicing  in  the  'refreshment  of  their 
spirits.'  .  .  .  But  to  a  large  extent  our  eyes  are  yet 
holden,  that  we  do  not  know  HIM. 

And  right  here  I  should  like  to  make  an  appeal — espe- 
cially to  the  MEN  of  Christendom.  Here  we  have  St. 
Paul  saying  (for  he  was  human,  and  needed  such  're- 
freshment')— here  we  have  St.  Paul  saying,  "For  they 
have  refreshed  my  spirit."  And  you  remember  how  it  is 
told  us  in  the  Old  Testament  that,  when  Saul  had  been 


Refreshment  of  Spirit  187 

chosen  first  king  of  Israel,  ''there  went  with  him  a  band 
of  men,  whose  hearts  God  had  touched."  Well,  here 
is  what  I  wish  to  be  at.  Some  of  you  men  (and,  mark 
you,  I  have  in  mind  today  the  men  of  all  our  Churches  and 
on  the  fringes  of  our  Churches:  for  I  always  try  to  talk 
with  the  world-vision  in  my  soul,  and  not  provincially) 
— ^well,  frankly,  some  of  you  men  are  not  enthusiastic 
about  the  Church.  Because,  perhaps,  you  think  there 
is  too  much  hypocrisy,  and  too  much  time-serving,  and 
too  much  petty  jealousy,  and  what  not,  in  the  Church: 
or  because,  perhaps,  you  think  that  the  Church  is  not  do- 
ing anything  like  all  that  it  might  do,  and  the  ministers 
(many  of  them)  are  not  sufficiently  equipped  nor  suf- 
Hciently  up-to-date:  or  because,  perhaps, — other  reasons. 
And  so  you  are  not  enthusiastic,  as  I  have  said;  and  you 
are  content  with  being,  so  to  speak,  mere  listeners  and 
spectators,  with  contributions  given  for  value  received: 
but,  all  the  while,  with  a  certain  critical  aloofness  as  the 
atmosphere  in  which  your  thoughts  about  the  Church 
move.  But,  men  and  brethren,  that  is  not  the  way  to 
make  things  better.  All  honor  to  the  great  multitude  of 
noble  women  who  are  doing  the  work  of  the  Kingdom 
and  serving  the  Christian  Church!  Yet  the  Church 
of  the  Living  God  needs  the  men :  needs  the  men  to  get 
behind  the  ministers  (with  all  their  inadequacy) — needs 
the  men  to  line  up  with  the  ministers,  and  to  work  along 
with  them.  Yes,  we  need  'bands  of  men  whose  hearts 
God  has  touched'  to  'refresh  our  spirits'  and  to  strengthen 
our  hands  for  a  Work  which  is  more  needed  today  than 
ever  it  was,  and  to  which,  I  believe,  the  world  is  more 
ready  to  respond  today  than  it  has  been  in  long  years.     . 


1 88  The  Imperishable  Heart 

.  .  Now,  please  don't  imagine  that  I  am  saying  all 
this  because  I  am  personally  discouraged.  Usually  when 
I  am  personally  discouraged,  I  do  not  say  so.  But  you 
men  ought  to  be  collectively  discouraged  that  the  Church 
is  not  doing  more  than  it  Is — that  the  Impact  of  Chris- 
tianity on  the  world  is  far  too  feeble  yet:  and  you  ought 
to  end  your  discouragement  by  getting  up  and  saying, 
"We  must,  we  can,  we  will  do  it." 

And  so  now  let  me  read  the  whole  clause  from  which 
my  text  is  taken:  "For  they  have  refreshed  my  spirit, 
and  yours.*' 


XIX 

NO  FUEL,  NO  FIRE 

"Where  no  wood  is,  there  the  fire  goeth  out." — Proverbs 
XXVI,  20. 

t4\yl7HERE  no  wood  is,  the  fire  goeth  out."  Or,  as 
we  might  put  it  even  more  briefly,  "No  fuel,  no 
fire." 

You  see  how  the  master-artist  in  proverb-writing  ap- 
plies this  particular  proverb  in  the  first  instance.  ** Strife," 
or  contention,  is  as  *a  fire;  heating  the  spirit,  burning  up 
all  that  is  good,  and  putting  families  and  societies  into  a 
flame.'  Here,  then,  we  are  told  how  that  fire  of  strife 
is  usually  kindled  and  kept  burning;  that  we  may  know 
what  to  do — or  what  not  to  do — in  order  to  let  the  fire 
'go  out.'  Stop  putting  on  fuel:  in  other  words,  stop  the 
tale-bearing. 

The  Bible  has  some  very  terse  and  trenchant  things  to 
say  about  "tale-bearing"  or  "whispering."  "Thou  shalt 
not  go  up  and  down  as  a  talebearer  among  thy  people," 
says  the  old  Hebrew  Law:  and  you  may  be  sure  that 
was  one  of  the  sayings  of  "them  of  old  time"  which  our 
Saviour  did  not  repeal.  In  the  passage  before  us  this 
evening  it  is  said,  "The  words  of  a  talebearer  are  as 
wounds:"  and  in  another  chapter  of  the  Book  of  Prov- 
erbs we  read,  "A  whisperer  separateth  chief  friends." 
Then  in  his  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  in  a  catalogue  of 
those  types  of  people  who  'do  not  like  to  retain  God  in 

X89 


I90  The  Imperishable  Heart 

their  knowledge,'  but  have  been  'given  over  to  a  reprobate 
mind,  to  do  those  things  which  are  not  convenient,'  in 
that  catalogue  St.  Paul  includes  "whisperers."  And,  in 
writing  to  the  Corinthians,  the  same  Apostle  expresses 
the  fervent  hope  that  he  may  find  no  "whisperings" 
among   them   w^hen   he   reaches    their   city. 

I  would  refer  you,  also,  to  such  Scripture  sayings  as 
these — on  the  taming  of  the  tongue.  "I  will  take  heed 
to  my  ways,  that  I  sin  not  with  my  tongue."  "Set  a 
watch,  O  Lord,  before  my  mouth;  keep  the  door  of  my 
lips."  "If  any  man  among  you  seemeth  to  be  religious, 
and  bridleth  not  his  tongue,  .  .  .  this  man's  re- 
ligion is  vain."  And,  scores  of  similar  passages.  It  would 
be  interesting  to  make  a  collection  of  Scripture  passages 
referring  to  the  use  of  the  tongue — the  use  of  words — 
the  right  and  godly  use  of  words;  which  may  be  either 
the  finest  or  the  foulest  things  in  this  world  of  speaking 
humans. 

Well  then,  "Where  no  wood  is,  the  fire  goeth  out:  so 
where  there  is  no  talebearer,  the  strife  ceaseth." —  No 
fuel,  no  fire:  so — no  talebearer,  no  turmoil. 

The  trouble  is,  so  many  people  seem  to  delight  in  add- 
ing fuel  to  the  fire  in  this  matter.  Some  men  would 
rather  carry  tales  to  'whisper'  with,  than  tools  to  work 
with ;  and  some  women  would  rather  be  talebearers  than 
childbearers. 

Of  course  the  talebearer  does  not  wish  to  be  reckoned 
malicious;  and  so  he  usually  introduces  his  blighting 
story  by  apparently  implying  that  he — for  one — does  not 
wish  to  believe  it.  "Surely  it  can't  be  true  that" — and 
so  on.     Or,  "She's  a  fine  girl,  but  it's  a  pity  she" — and 


No  Fuel,  No  Fire  19 1 

so  on.  And  the  devilish  work  of  stoking  the  fire  of  scan- 
dal and  strife  has  begun.  ''False  apostles,"  says  the  New 
Testament,  "deceitful  workers,  transforming  themselves 
into  the  apostles  of  Christ.  And  no  marvel;  for  Satan 
Himself  is  transformed  into  an  angel  of  light." 

Anyhow,  it  is  all  too  rife  in  this  world, — the  'tale- 
bearing,' the  'whispering:'  and  perhaps  especially  rife  in 
the  smaller  communities  of  the  civilized  Countries,  and 
many  a  cluster  of  human  habitations  which  is  beautiful  to 
look  upon  and  attractive  to  people  of  good  taste  is  rotten 
with  'talebearing'  and  scandal-mongering.  Ay,  the  flaw 
in  the  landscape  may  be,  not  in  the  place,  but  in  the  peo- 
ple. As  you  read  in  the  Book  of  Genesis  of  a  certain 
Palestinian  town,  "And  Lot  lifted  up  his  eyes,  and  be- 
held all  the  plain  of  Jordan,  that  it  was  well  watered 
everywhere,     .     .     .     even  as  the  garden  of  the   Lord. 

.  .  .  Then  Lot  chose  him  all  the  plain  of  Jordan; 
and  .  .  .  dwelt  in  .  .  .  Sodom.  But  the  men 
of  Sodom"  (the  people  of  the  place)  "were  wicked  and 
sinners  before  the  Lord  exceedingly." 

What,  then,  is  to  be  the  remedy  for  all  the  irritation 
and  strife  and  shame  that  are  caused  by  this  'talebear- 
ing?' Obviously,  stop  the  talebearing.  Cut  it  out.  Cut 
off  the  supply  of  fuel.  For  "where  no  wood  is,  the  fire 
goeth  out:"  no  fuel,  no  fire. 

Unfortunately  the  fuel,  in  this  matter,  is  not  easy  to 
get  at,  so  that  we  may  keep  it  out  of  the  fire.  It  is  not 
all  gathered  together  in  one  place, — like  the  wood  in  a 
wood-pile  or  the  coal  in  a  coal-cellar.  It  is  scattered  all 
about.  There  is  rather  a  quaint  story  told  of  St.  Philip 
Neri, — a  prominent  Italian  Churchman  of  the  i6th  cen- 


192  The  Imperishable  Heart 

tury;  to  whom,  one  day — in  course  of  confession,  a  lady 
accused  herself  of  having  spread  slanderous  stories,  and 
asked  the  famous  priest  how  she  might  be  cured.  "Go," 
said  he,  "to  the  market,  buy  a  chicken  newly  killed,  and 
bring  it  to  me,  plucking  its  feathers  all  the  way  as  you 
come  back."  The  lady  wondered  how  a  dead  chicken 
could  help  her  to  overcome  her  talebearing  habit ;  but  she 
did  as  she  had  been  told,  and  came  back  to  the  priest 
with  the  plucked  chicken.  "Now,"  said  he,  "retrace 
your  steps,  and  bring  me  all  the  feathers  you  have  scat- 
tered." "But  that  is  impossible,"  she  replied,  "I  cast 
the  feathers  carelessly,  and  the  wind  (for  it  is  breezy  to- 
day) must  have  carried  them  away:  how  can  I  gather 
them  all  together  again?"  "Ah,"  said  the  priest,  "that 
is  exactly  like  your  slanderous  tales  and  whisperings. 
They  have  been  scattered  about  in  all  directions,  and 
you  cannot  take  them  back.  Give  the  thing  up."  "Where 
no  wood  is,  the  fire  goeth  out:  so  where  there  is  no  tale- 
bearer    .     .     .     ." 

And  similarly,  my  friends,  with  other  bad  feeders  of 
unwelcome  and  disastrous  fires. 

If  certain  articles  of  diet  are  injuring  your  health  and 
your  efficiency,— rstop  the  supply.  If  some  habit  of  life 
is  spoiling  you  mentally  and  ruining  your  soul, — cut  it 
out.  If  some  form  of  recreation  or  amusement  is  like 
to  get  too  strong  a  hold  of  you,  so  that  you  are  neglecting 
your  appointed  life-work  and  taking  no  time  for  self- 
culture, —  (to  say  the  least  of  it)  reduce  the  quantity 
of  fuel.  If  a  certain  type  of  reading  is  making  you 
unwholesomely  discontented  and  restless,  or  is  feeding 
the  fires  of  your  baser  passions, — stop  getting  that  kind 


No  Fuel,  No  Fire  193 

of  book. 

The  truth  is,  brethren,  while  "there  is  .  .  .  need 
for  caution  in  things  of  intellect,  .  .  .  it  is  fatal  pol- 
icy in  things  of  conscience."  There  are  some  things  we 
dare  not  attempt  to  compromise  with.  The  only  thing 
to  do  is  .  .  .  to  leave  them  alone.  As  this  same 
Book  of  Proverbs  would  say,  'Avoid  them,  pass  not 
by  them,  turn  from  them,  and  pass  away.' 

'No  fuel,  no  fire!' 

But  now,  my  friends,  I  wish  to  take  our  text,  for  a 
little  while,  in  a  positive  way,  not  a  negative  way.  "Where 
no  wood  is,  the  fire  goeth  out."  Yes,  but  there  are  fires 
that  are  eminently  useful  and  welcome,  and  which  it 
would  be  a  shame  to  let-go-out. 

There  is,  for  example,  the  fire  of  righteous  indignation : 
revolt  of  heart  and  mind  against  all  that  is  base  and 
debasing.  And,  there  is  the  fire  of  ambition — pure  and 
wholesome  ambition.  And,  there  is  the  fire  of  enthu- 
siasm— enthusiasm  for  the  things  that  are  worth  while. 
And,  there  is  the  fire  of  love — true  love.  And,  there  is 
the  fire  of  the  Christ-touched  purpose  of  making  oneself 
useful  in  one's  day. 

In  short,  there  are  various  kinds  of  holy  fires.  They 
burn,  for  the  most  part,  rather  quietly;  but  intensely  and 
through-and-through.  Provided — they  are  properly 
fuelled:  fuelled  regularly,  and  methodically,  and  with  the 
best  kind  of  fuel — if  it  may  be. 

What,  then,  are  some  of  the  right  kinds  of  fuel  to  use, 
if  we  are  to  be  on  fire  with  the  best  interests  and  desires 
and  enthusiasms — and  on  fire  with  the  doing  of  things? 


194  ^^^  Imperishable  Heart 

'No  fuel,  no  fire.' 

There  is,  first  of  all,  the  Fuel  of  Intelligence.  We 
must  know  about  things.  We  must  keep  ourselves 
informed.  As  I  have  said  so  frequently,  you  can't  ex- 
pect to  be  interested  in  things  you  know  nothing  about. 
If  you  wish  to  be  a  good  musician,  you  must  read-up 
music,  and  practice.  If  you  wish  to  be  a  good  teacher, 
you  must  keep  adding  to  your  own  store  of  information 
and  keep  discipliningyourself  in  the  points  of  good  teaching. 
If  you  wish  to  be  a  good  conversationalist,  you  must  have 
something  to  say,  and  you  must  school  yourself  to  talk 
well.  If  you  wish  to  love  tenderly  and  deeply  and  abid- 
ingly, you  must  (as  the  Scripture  phrases  it)  'keep  your- 
selves in'  the  loving — by  doing  diligently  and  devotedly 
the  things  love  prompts  you  to  do :  else,  the  fire  will  burn 
low,  and  love  will  cool, — and  then  goodbye  happiness.  If 
you  wish  to  be  of  real  service  to  your  community,  you 
must  know  your  community  and  its  needs  and  keep  your- 
self in  touch  with  people.  Or,  if  you  wish  to  be  a  live 
and  active  Church  Worker,  you  must  know  something 
of  what  the  Church  of  Christ  has  done  in  days  gone  by 
and  is  doing  today.  Here  is  part  of  a  little  paragraph  I 
lighted  upon  a  couple  of  days  ago:  it  is  entitled  "Keep- 
ing up  to  date:"  "In  all  lines  of  business  today  men 
read  their  trade  journals.  Doctors  read  their  medical 
papers,  lawyers  the  law  journals,  and  preachers  a  great 
many  things:  every  man  reads  something  bearing  on  his 
line  of  work.  Every  Christian  should  be  engaged  in  the 
business  of  the  Kingdom  of  Grod,  and  it  should  be  the 
primary  duty  of  each  one  to  be  informed  about  the 
progress  of  events  connected  with  this  Kingdom.     No 


No  Fuel,  No  Fire  195 

one  can  escape  this  responsibility  for  intelligent  interest 
and  information."  When,  for  instance,  I  read  (as  I  did 
lately)  that  "the  same  notice  boards"  in  several  provinces 
of  China,  "which  a  few  years  ago  held  edicts  proclaiming 
death  to  the  "foreign  devils,"  recently  displayed  posters 
advertising  Mr.  Eddy's  evangelistic  meetings" ;  my  inter- 
est in  the  propagation  of  the  Gospel  in  the  Far  East  is 
immensely  quickened.  Or  when  I  read  (as  I  did  the 
other  day)  that  the  pastor  of  the  German  Mission  in 
Hong  Kong  informed  one  of  our  missionaries  in  China 
that  the  first  gift  he  received  after  the  declaration  of  war 
was  ten  pounds  sterling  ($50.00)  from  an  English  mis- 
sionary in  Hankow;  then  I  am  persuaded  that  there  is 
something  else — and  something  better — working  in  the 
world  today  than  the  war-fever  and  commercial  cut- 
throatism  and  international  jealousy, — even  the  Christian 
Spirit  of  Brotherhood,  and  my  faith  is  refreshed  in  "the 
goodness  of  the  Lord  in  the  land  of  the  living."  Curi- 
ously enough,  my  friends,  one  of  the  items  of  information 
I  have  just  given  you  is  taken  from  a  page  in  a  very  val- 
uable Missionary  publication  headed  "Fuel  for  Mission- 
ary Fires." 

Then,  there  is  the  Fuel  of  the  Word  of  God:  the 
very  best  kind  of  fuel  for  keeping  the  fires  of  aspiration 
and  of  Christian  purpose  and  of  Christian  love  burning 
bright  and  sure,  and  with  a  steady  glow.  I  am  accus- 
tomed to  say  (and  have  I  not  both  fact  and  right  on  my 
side?)  that  the  best  type  of  Christian  is  the  Bible  Chris- 
tian: the  man  who  has  got  the  soul  of  this  Book  into  his 
own  soul,  and  who  is  really  trying  to  respond  to  its 
highest  appeals  and  to  live  according  to  its  highest  stand- 


196  The  Imperishable  Heart 

ards.  To  be  sure,  our  views  of  the  inspiration  of  Scrip- 
ture are  less  mechanical  (and,  I  trust,  more  rational) 
than  the  views  of  some  previous  generations  of  Christians. 
But  we  cannot  get  past  the  fact  that  this  is  still  the  most 
wonderful  Book  known  to  human  kind,  and  the  most  in- 
spirational. To  be  sure  also,  we  are  agreed,  with  the 
New  Testament  that  "the  letter  killeth,  but  the  spirit 
giveth  life,"  and  that  one  may  know  one's  Bible  familiarly 
well  and  yet  be  a  poor  specimen  of  a  Christian.  Yes, 
but  how  can  you  hope  to  get  at  the  "spirit"  of  this  Book 
— or  of  any  book, — if  you  are  quite  unfamiliar  with  the 
"letter"  of  it?     'No  fuel,  no  fire.' 

And  here  is  a  pointer  for  my  young  friends  in  partic- 
ular. Miss  Margaret  Slattery,  whose  name  most  of  you 
must  know,  and  who  is  so  deeply  interested  in  the  girl- 
life  of  this  Country,  tells  of  a  girl  of  fourteen  or  fifteen 
years  of  age  who  was  in  the  habit  of  reading  a  few  chap- 
ters from  some  trashy,  but  exciting,  novel  every  night  last 
thing  before  she  retired  to  rest.  The  results  were  dis- 
astrous: she  went  ofif  her  sleep,  and  her  health — both  ma- 
terial and  spiritual — was  being  sacrificed  on  the  altar  of 
questionable  fiction.  One  day  a  girl  friend  of  hers — a 
couple  of  years  her  senior — presented  her  with  a  little 
Scripture  Calendar,  with  a  selection  of  Scripture  passages 
on  each  page — and  a  page  for  each  day,  and  asked  her  if 
she  would  not  read  one  of  these  pages  each  evening  last 
thing  before  retiring  to  rest, — marking  any  passages  that 
specially  appealed  to  her.  She  did  so, — read  and  marked, 
and  became  more  and  more  interested  in  the  great  Book. 
The  results  were  marvellous:  retiring  to  rest  each  night 
with    high    and   holy   thoughts    in   her   heart,    she   slept 


No  Fuel,  No  Fire  197 

soundly  and  purely,  and  in  a  short  time  became  a  new 
creature — body  and  mind  and  soul.  Now,  my  friends,  I 
am  human  enough  to  understand  that  it  is  not  essential 
that  what  that  individual  girl  did  we  must  all  do  in  pre- 
cisely the  same  fashion;  but  the  pith  and  point  of  Miss 
Slattery's  narrative  are  obvious.  O  yes,  our  better  na- 
tures are  crying  out  for  'food  convenient  for  them.'  The 
purer  fires  within  us  are  demanding  the  best  kind  of  fuel. 

Then,  there  is  the  Fuel  of  Meditation:  "While  I  was 
musing,"  says  the  XXXIXth  Psalm,  ''while  I  was  mus- 
ing  (meditating),  the  fire  burned." 

Now,  you  will  find  that  the  dictionary  meaning  of 
Meditation  is  given  as  'deep  thought,'  'serious  contempla- 
tion,' or  some  such  phrase.  And  it  has  been  suggested 
by  some  that  the  word  "meditate"  is  derived  from  the 
Latin  'medius'  (meaning,  middle  or  midst)  :  so  that  to 
"meditate"  on  a  thing  is  just  to  get  into  the  middle  of 
it,  to  become  absorbed  in  it,  to  go  to  the  very  heart  of  it. 

Ah,  my  friends,  that  is  why  so  many  people  are  not 
on  fire  about  the  things  that  are  most  worth  while,  are 
not  on  fire  about  the  big  projects.  They  are  not  meditating 
on  them.  They  are  not  getting  to  the  heart  of  them. 
They  are  only  skimming  across  the  surface.  As  if  a  man 
m.ight  expect  a  good  yield  from  his  garden  by  using  the 
rake  only  on  the  surface,  and  not  plough  and  spade  and 
cultivator  as  well!  Are  you  envying  some  individuals 
their  success,  or  what  is  called  their  personal  magnetism? 
And,  are  you  putting  it  all  down  to  luck?  I  tell  you. 
No:  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  it  is  not  luck  that  has  done 
it,  but  hard  work — deliberate  abandon  and  absorption — 
concentration — getting  to  the  heart  of  things  and  staying 


198  The  Imperishable  Heart 

there.  A  man  in  this  Village  was  asked  the  other  day 
how  he  had  managed  to  make  such  a  success  of  a  certain 
venture.  His  answer  was,  "By  giving  my  mind  to  it." 
I  am  not  an  expert  housekeeper ;  but  I  know  that  the  only 
really  thorough  and  satisfactory  way  of  scrubbing  a 
floor  is  to  get  down  on  your  hands  and  knees  to  it.    And, 

.  .  .  "it  is  no  use  to  wait  for  your  ship  to  come  in, 
unless  you  have  sent  one  out."  "Whatsoever  thy  hand 
findeth  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might."     .     .     . 

And  now,  friends,  there  is  but  one  other  kind  of  Fuel 
I  wish  to  speak  of  just  now:  a  kind  of  Fuel,  this  time, 
which  is  good  to  use  if  we  wish  to  help  the  other  fellow 
to  keep  his  fire  burning  well.  I  mean.  Encouragement. 
The  holy  fires  are  burning  pretty  low  in  some  folks' 
hearts — just  for  lack  of  that  sort  of  fuel.  Perhaps  they 
haven't  a  great  deal  of  it  in  their  own  cellars.  Perhaps 
(I  mean)  they  are  constitutionally  morbid  and  fearful 
and  self-distrustful,  and  little  inclined  to  be  sanguine. 
Well,  you  know  what  such  people  need.  Just  a  word  of 
good  cheer.     Just  a  little  heartening. 

Of  course  we  cannot  always  be  patting  people  on  the 
back,  and  saying  smooth  things  and  flattering  things. 
There  are  various  ways  of  encouraging  people  (which 
means,  literally,  putting  courage  into  them).  It  is  told 
of  Sir  Colin  Campbell — of  Indian  Mutiny  fame — that, 
when  he  was  but  a  lad  and  was  in  his  first  battle  as  an 
army  ensign,  the  captain  of  the  regiment  took  him  by  the 
sleeve  and  made  him  walk  out  with  him  right  in  front 
of  the  line  between  their  own  and  the  enemy's  fire.  The 
captain's  object  (as  he  explained  later)  was  to  knock  fear 
out  of  the  lad,  and  give  him  confidence;    and  Campbell, 


No  Fuel,  No  Fire  199 

writing  of  the  incident  long  years  afterwards,  said,  "It 
was  the  greatest  kindness  that  could  have  been  shown  me  at 
that  time."  Yes,  there  are  differences;  and  we  must 
know  something  of  human  nature  if  we  are  to  be  judicious 
and  effective  Encouragers.  But  by  all  means  let  us 
be  Encouragers:  let  us  know  how  to  help  the  other  fel- 
low stoke  his  fire  with  that  sort  of  Fuel.  .  .  .  And 
then,  brethren,  when  we  pass  on,  not  only  shall  we  leave 
behind  us  here  an  immortality  of  heartening  influence: 
we  shall  also  find  that  the  world  beyond  is,  as  some  one 
has  said,  a  place  ''where  God  is  grateful  to  all  who  have 
been  kind  to  His  children  here." 


XX 

'THE  GIFT  WITHOUT  THE  GIVER  IS  BARE' 

"They    .    .    .    first  gave  their  own  selves  to  the  Lord*' — 
II  Corinthians  VIII,  5. 

^  I  ^HIS  Epistle,  from  which  our  text  is  taken,  was  from 
Paul  to  the  Christians  of  Corinth — in  Southern 
Greece.  And  in  this  chapter  and  the  chapter  following 
he  is  dealing  particularly  with  the  duty  of  Christian  Giv- 
ing; or  rather,  as  he  calls  it,  the  "grace"  of  Christian 
Giving.  In  doing  so  he  cites  to  these  Corinthians  the 
praiseworthy  example  of  the  Christians  of  some  of  the 
cities  of  Macedonia — in  Northern  Greece.  These  North- 
erners, he  says,  had  given  liberally.  Indeed,  the  manner 
of  their  giving  had  been  beyond  his  expectations:  the  ex- 
planation being  that,  back  of  all  their  giving,  prior  to 
all  their  contributing,  there  had  been  the  giving  of  them- 
selves. Their  charity  was  out  of  consecration;  their  ser- 
vice out  of  self-surrender;  their  Gospel  activity  out  of 
Gospel  affection.  "And  this  they  did,  not  as  we  had 
hoped,  but  first  gave  their  own  selves  to  the  Lord,  and 
unto  us  by  the  will  of  God." 

Brethren,  one  of  the  best  things  the  New  Testament 
says  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  that  HE  "gave  Him- 
self" for  us.  And  surely,  also,  one  of  the  best  things 
that  has  ever  been  said  of  any  group  of  people  is  that  they 
"gave  their  own  selves"  to  the  King  of  Love  and  to  the 
work  of  His  Kingdom. 

200 


"The  Gift  Without  the  Giver  is  Bare'*  20i 

I  don't  know  how  it  is,  but  these  phrases — and  the 
thought  at  the  heart  of  them — have  been  much  in  my 
mind  for  some  time  past.  They  have  been,  I  may  almost 
say,  haunting  me.  Partly,  I  suppose,  because  one  finds 
so  little  of  this  Self-Giving  in  the  Church  of  Christ.  And 
partly  also  because  one  is  bound  to  feel  that,  if  men  and 
women  will  'give  themselves'  to  the  Saviour  and  His  ser- 
vice, everything  else  will  follow:  a  multitude  of  doubts 
and  difficulties  will  disappear,  the  questionable  habits  will 
go,  the  whole  area  of  life  will  take  on  a  new  lustre  and 
a  new  sanctity,  and  Church  attendance  and  Church  sup- 
port and  the  carrying  on  of  the  world's  benevolences  will 
go  on  apace — without  there  being  any  need  of  occasional 
volcanic  efforts. 

"They  .  .  .  first  gave  their  own  selves."  Not 
simply,  mark  you.  They  gave  their  attention,  gave  their 
time,  gave  their  toil,  gave  their  money:  but  GAVE 
THEMSELVES. 

And  there  is  no  use  talking, — in  every  realm  of  life  it 
is  those  who  'give  themselves'  who  do  best,  who  are  at 
once  most  successful  and  most  influential:  those  who 
'lose  themselves'  (to  use  one  of  our  Lord's  most  fruitful 
phrases) — those  who  'lose  themselves'  in  their  appointed 
work,  or  in  their  friendships,  or  in  their  love,  or  in  their 
studies,  or  in  their  Church  activities. 

One  is  bound  to  see  that  the  great  Benefactors  of  Hu- 
manity have  been  the  men  and  women  who  have  'first 
given  their  own  selves.'  That,  as  I  have  already  hinted, 
was  the  supreme  and  the  unique  distinction  of  CHRIST. 
Not  simply  that  He  was  the  purest  and  kindest  and  wisest 


i02  The  Imperishable  Heart 

soul  who  has  ever  lived.  Nor  yet  simply  that  He  was 
an  incomparable  Teacher  and  an  astounding  Wonder- 
worker. Nor  yet  simply  that  He  came  down  from  the 
purity  and  dignity  of  God's  nearer  presence,  and  "made 
Himself  of  no  reputation."  No,  nor  yet  simply  that  He 
poured  out  His  life-blood.  But  that  He  "poured  out  His 
soul  unto  death" — "gave  HIMSELF" — His  very  heart 
— His  whole  being.  Just  compare,  for  a  moment,  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  and,  say.  Napoleon.  Napoleon  was,  in  many 
respects,  a  transcendently  great  man:  able,  masterful, 
large-brained,  large-visioned,  and — in  great  measure — a 
sweeping  conqueror.  But  in  the  end  he  was  a  failure! 
Why?  Because,  I  have  always  felt,  he  never  'gave  him- 
self even  to  his  own  ambitious  projects,  let  alone  any 
really  good  work.  He  gave  everything  else — brains  and 
time  and  energy  (doing  with  as  little  sleep  as  it  is  pos- 
sible for  any  human  to  do  with) — he  gave  everything  else 
except  himself.  The  consequence  has  been,  that,  not- 
withstanding the  immense  ability  of  that  man,  and  his 
untiring  industry,  and  his  occasional  outbursts  of  benevo- 
lence on  a  grand  scale,  he  has  not  touched  our  hearts; 
and  to  the  end  of  time  the  Christ  will  be  immensely  pre- 
ferred by  Humanity  to  the  Corsican. 

And  of  all  the  real  "helpers  and  friends  of  mankind"  it 
may  truly  be  said  that  they  "first  gave  their  own  selves," — 
surrendered  themselves,  consecrated  themselves,  gave  their 
hearts  to  their  "work  of  faith  and  labor  of  love."  One 
has  only  to  name  one  or  two,  to  be  convinced  of  that. 
St.  Francis,  for  example;  or  William  Tyndale,  to  whom 
— humanly  speaking — ^we  owe  the  English  Bible ;  or  Wil- 
liam Carey;  or  David  Livingstone;  or  John  Bright;  or 


"The  Gift  Without  the  Giver  is  Bare'*  203 

Abraham  Lincoln.  And  a  whole  host  of  men  and  women 
of  our  own  time:  like  David  Lloyd  George,  of  England; 
or  John  R.  Mott,  of  this  Country ;  or  Miss  Grace  Dodge 
who  died  the  other  day, — chairman  of  the  National  Board 
of  the  Young  Women's  Christian  Association  and  the  first 
woman  to  serve  on  the  Board  of  Education  of  New  York 
City, — of  whom  it  has  been  said  that  she  gave  ''regally 
of  her  money  where  first  she  had  given  herself." 

That  is  one  reason,  too,  I  believe,  why  a  soldier  ready 
for  battle  appeals  to  us  so  strongly.  Say  what  we  will 
about  the  iniquity  and  stupidity  of  war,  not  one  of  us 
but  is  moved  by  the  sight  of  a  regiment  of  soldiers  armed 
from  top  to  toe,  starting  off  for  the  war  zone.  Why? 
Because  these  men  are  'giving  themselves.'  They  are  not 
counting  their  own  lives  dear  unto  themselves.  They 
are  going  to  "lay  down  their  own  necks"  if  need  be,  for 
Cause  or  Country. 

And  if  I  mistake  not,  brethren,  it  is  that  also  which 
explains  why  most  of  us  have  such  a  warm  side  to  our 
Mothers.  Because  they  have  'given  themselves'  for  us — 
body  and  soul.  Yes,  I  say,  body  and  soul.  For  you 
know  that  the  best  kind  of  mother  will  sacrifice  anything 
and  everything  for  the  sake  of  her  children:  her  health, 
her  time,  her  social  pleasures  and  her  social  prestige,  and 
her  very  reputation. 

We  often  hear  of  the  large  part  which  the  Personal 
Equation  plays  in  human  intercourse  and  human  achieve- 
ment. And,  indeed,  it  is  wonderful — the  added  touch 
of  Individuality — the  added  touch  of  Life.  The  pres- 
ence or  absence  of  that  touch  makes  all  the  difference  in 
the  world.     A  man  may  give  all  sorts  of  things  and  all 


204  The  Imperishable  Heart 

sorts  of  large  amounts  of  money — for  the  very  best  of 
causes;  but  somehow,  if  his  heart  is  not  going  with  his 
gifts,  his  giving  does  not  appeal  to  us.  He  is  only  giving 
of  his  "abundance"  (or  ''superfluity"),  as  Jesus  phrased 
it.  Isn't  that  just  what  St.  Paul  meant  when  he  said, 
in  the  wonderful  Xlllth  Chapter  of  his  First  Letter 
to  these  same  Corinthians,  "Though  I  bestow  all  my  goods 
to  feed  the  poor,  and  though  I  give  my  body  to  be 
burned,  and  have  not  Love,  it  profiteth  me  nothing." 
'Feeding  the  poor'  is  a  splendid  thing;  and  fleshy  self- 
denial — or  even  self-inflicted  pain  to  subdue  the  fleshly 
appetites — may  be  an  excellent  thing.  But  better  far  is 
it  to  so  love  the  poor  that  all  the  other  points  of  charity 
will  follow  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  to  be  so  enthusias- 
tic for  cleanness  and  efficiency  of  life  that  no  unworthy 
indulgence  will  ever  have  as  much  as  a  place  in  our 
thoughts.  For,  as  Russell  Lowell  has  it  in  his  immortal 
line, 

"The  gift  without  the  giver  is  bare." 

You  remember  the  exquisite  Old  Testament  story  of 
Ruth — in  the  little  Book  of  that  name.  Here  is  a  short 
passage  from  it:  "And  Naomi  said.  Turn  again,  my 
daughters:  why  will  ye  go  with  me?  .  .  .  And  they 
lifted  up  their  voice,  and  wept  .  .  .  :  and  Orpah 
kissed  her  mother-in-law ;    but  Ruth  clave  unto  her.     . 

.  .  And  Ruth  said,  Intreat  me  not  to  leave  thee,  or 
to  return  from  following  after  thee:  for  whither  thou 
goest,  I  will  go:  and  where  thou  lodgest,  I  will  lodge: 
thy  people  shall  be  my  people,  and  thy  God,  my  God: 
where  thou  diest,  will  I  die,  and  there  will  I  be  buried: 
the  Lord  do  so  to  me,  and  more  also,  if  aught  but  death 


"The  Gift  Without  the  Giver  is  Bare'  205 

part  thee  and  me.     ...     So  Naomi  returned,  and  Ruth 
.     with  her."     She  had  'first  given  her  own  self — 
that  sweet  girl  of  Moab. 

And  so,  now,  my  friends,  I  have  one  or  two  practical 
things  to  say:  and  I  shall  say  them  as  simply  and  directly 
as  possible.     .     .     . 

First,  I  would  say,  GIVE  YOURSELF  to  Christ. 
As  Frances  Havergal's  hymn  has  it, 

"Thy  life  was  given  for  me; 
What  have  I  given  for  Thee? 

Thou  gav'st  Thyself  for  me; 
I  give  myself  to  Thee." 
Remember,  it  is  no  more  intellectual  assent  to  certain 
propositions  about  Christ  that  is  going  to  save  us,  that  is 
going  to  lift  us  up  where  we  ought  to  be  and  bring  us 
to  our  best.  Neither  is  it  our  formal  adherence  to  the 
Christian  Society  that  is  going  to  emancipate  us,  that  is 
going  to  free  us  from  our  littlenesses  and  our  basenesses  and 
make  us  strong  and  glad  in  the  service  of  the  Highest. 
Neither  will  a  mere  negative  goodness  do, — giving  up  this 
and  giving  up  that  and  keeping  ourselves  immaculate  be- 
cause the  precepts  of  Christ  seem  to  require  it.  O  no,  liv- 
ing in  Christ  and  with  Christ  and  for  Christ  means  far 
more  than  any  or  all  of  these  things.  It  means  "not  the 
mere  being  good,"  but  "the  definite  surrender  of  oneself 
and  one's  life  at  any  cost."  It  means  'losing'  oneself  to 
Christ.  No  half-measures  will  do.  No  middle  course  is 
either  sufficient  or  satisfying.  .  .  .  You  know,  you 
may  get  all  sorts  of  rules  for  learning  to  swim ;  but  the  one 


2o6  The  Imperishable  Heart 

unfailing  rule — beside  which  the  others  are  little  needed 
—  (the  one  unfailing  rule)  is,  Trust  yourself  to  the  wa- 
ter and  strike  out  quietly  and  surely. 

O  my  friends — my  young  friends  especially, — do  you 
know  what  it  means — 'giving  yourself  to  Christ.  It  is, 
indeed,  just  one  of  those  things  which  cannot  easily  be 
told  in  human  words.  But  I  think  I  know  what  it 
means:  and  I  know  that  it  is  all  confusion  and  failure 
and  mediocrity — until  a  fellow  has  brought  himself  to  say 
to  the  Christ,  with  all  his  heart, 

"Take  myself,  and  I  will  be 
Ever,  only,  all  for  Thee." 

Then  I  would  say,  also,  GIVE  YOURSELF  to  your 
Friends.  So  long  as  love  calculates  and  prevaricates,  it 
is  in  a  perilous  state.  And  if  we  are  not  going  to  "be 
ourselves"  to  our  friends,  our  friendships  will  soon  wither 
and  die.  The  Book  here  says,  you  remember,  "A  man 
that  hath  friends  must  show  himself  friendly."  And  a 
more  modern  writer  has  it  on  this  wise:  that  no  one  is 
worthy  to  have  friends  who  will  not  be  a  friend.  And 
yet  another  says,  "A  true  friend  unbosoms  freely."  You 
know  what  a  two-faced  person  is:  and  to  be  two-faced 
with  a  friend — with  one  who  really  loves  you  and  is 
planning  for  your  good — is  simply  frightful.  Well,  the 
sure  way  to  avoid  anything  approaching  two-facedness  is 
to  'give  yourself — to  keep  nothing  back. 

And,  mark  you,  brethren,  we  have  sundry  Friends  be- 
sides those  in  human  form.  Nature — God's  out-of- 
doors — is  our  Friend,  if  we  will  have  it  so.  Good  Books 
are  our  Friends:  as  Stevenson  says,  "When  you  have 
read,     .     .     .     it  is  as  though  you  had  touched  a  loyal 


"The  Gift  Without  the  Giver  is  Bare"  207 

hand,  looked  into  brave  eyes,  and  made  a  noble  friend." 
Music  is  one  of  man's  best  Friends.  And  your  whole- 
some recreations  are  good  Friends  to  you.  .  .  .  What 
.hen?  GIVE  YOURSELVES  to  these  things.  Don't 
deal  with  them  casually  and  superficially.  Become  im- 
mersed in  them,  so  as  to  extract  all  the  blessing  and  all 
the   inspiration  of   them. 

And  so  I  would  say,  next,  GIVE  YOURSELF  to 
your  Work.  Whatever  it  be,  become  absorbed  in  it.  Put 
yourself  into  it, — your  very  best,  all  that  you  know.  Let 
it  be  Consecrated  Concentration,  and  Concentrated  Con- 
secration. 

Here  is  something  to  the  point,  which  I  came  across  the 
other  day  (it  is  from  a  recent  issue  of  The  Missionary 
Review  of  the  World).  Many  years  ago,  in  an  old 
French  Church  in  Berne,  a  great  choir  under  the 
famous  old  leader,  Father  Reichel,  was  having  its 
final  rehearsal  for  the  production  of  the  Mes- 
siah. The  chorus  had  triumphantly  sung  through 
to  the  place  where  the  soprano  solo  takes  up 
the  refrain,  "I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth."  The 
singer  was  a  beautiful  woman,  whose  voice  had  been  fault- 
lessly trained.  As  the  tones  came  out  high  and  clear,  the 
listeners  were  filled  with  wonder  at  her  perfect  technique. 
Her  breathing  was  faultless;  her  note-placing  perfect; 
her  enunciation  beyond  criticism.  After  the  final  note 
there  was  a  pause,  and  all  eyes  were  turned  toward  the  old 
conductor  to  catch  his  look  of  approval.  Great  was  the 
surprise,  however,  when  a  sharp  tap  of  the  baton  was 
heard,  as  a  command  for  the  orchestra  to  pause,  and  with 
9  look:  pf  sorrow  Father  Reichel  said  to  the  singer:    "My 


2o8  The  Imperishable  Heart 

daughter,  you  do  not  really  know  that  your  Redeemer 
Ilveth,  do  you?"  With  a  flushed  face  she  replied:  ''Why 
yes,  I  think  I  do."  ''Then  sing  it,"  he  cried,  "Sing  it 
from  your  heart.  Tell  it  to  me  so  that  I  and  all  who 
hear  you  will  know,  and  know  that  you  know  the  joy  and 
power  of  it."  Then  with  an  imperious  gesture  he  mo- 
tioned for  the  orchestra  to  go  over  it  again.  This  time 
the  young  woman  sang  with  no  thought  of  herself  or  of 
technique  or  applause  from  her  hearers.  She  sang  the 
truth  that  she  knew  in  her  heart  and  experienced  in  her 
life,  and  that  she  wished  to  send  home  to  the  hearts  of 
the  listeners.  As  the  last  notes  died  away  there  was  no 
wonder  at  the  craftsman's  work,  but  there  were  quick- 
ened hearts  that  had  been  moved  by  the  glorious  message 
they  had  received.  And  as  the  singer  stood  forgetful  of 
applause,  the  old  master  stepped  up  and  with  tears  in  his 
eyes  kissed  her  on  her  forehead  and  said:  "You  do  know, 
for  you  have  told  me"! 

But,  you  may  say,  that  was  artistic  work — fine  work — 
the  kind  of  work  that  is  calculated,  if  any  kind  of  work 
is,  to  draw  out  one's  best.  Well,  friends,  did  I  not 
read,  also  just  the  other  day,  of  a  laborer  who  was  dig- 
ging away  as  hard  as  he  could  in  a  dirty  swampy  piece 
of  ground — and  singing  the  while  he  was  digging.  A 
passer-by  asked  him  how  he  could  contrive  to  sing  at 
such  grimy  work  as  that:  when  he  replied,  "Isn't  it  my 
daily  work  that  keeps  the  light  in  my  mother  s  face?'* 
Just  so,  my  friends,  you  will  never  do  anything  that 
is  worth  while  in  a  way  that  is  worth  while,  unless  you 
put  yourself  into  it,  unless  you  are  willing  to  make  sac- 
rifices all  along  the  line,  unless  you  ipake  up  your  mind 


"The  Gift  Without  the  Giver  is  Bare"  209 

that  in  every  detail  the  thing  demands  your  very  best. 
As  Newman  has  said,  "We  are  most  ourselves  v^^hen  wt 
lose  sight  of  ourselves.  .  .  .  When  we  surrender 
ourselves  we  are  victors."  A  chief  reason  why  there  is 
so  much  miserable  mediocrity  in  the  world  is  just  that  so 
many  people  are  not  'first  giving  their  own  selves'  to 
their  appointed  lifework:  and  I  know  mighty  well  what 
I  am  talking  about. 

There  are  two  passages  in  the  Book  of  Nehemiah  that 
always  occur  to  my  mind  in  connection  with  this  subject. 
The  first  is  this:  "But  their  nobles  put  not  their  necks 
to  the  work  of  the  Lord."  And  the  second  is  this: 
"And  all  the  wall  was  joined  together.  ...  :  for 
the  people  had  a  mind  to  work."     .     .     . 

And,  brethren,  if  I  have  said.  Give  Yourself  to  your 
Work;  shall  I  not  say,  of  the  Work  of  the  Kingdom 
in  particular,  GIVE  YOURSELF  to  that  work.  Not 
just  your  occasional  attendance — or,  if  it  be  so,  your  reg- 
ular attendance — at  the  Church  Services,  and  your  pledged 
contributions  and  so  forth :  but  YOURSELF, — your  best 
energies  and  your  best  powers  of  mind  and  heart.  A 
'shirker'  is  a  hopeless  monstrosity  in  the  Church  of  the 
Living  Redeemer:  while,  let  me  tell  you,  those  who  are 
giving  themselves  to  the  study  and  the  service  of  the 
Church  of  Christ  (and  I  am  not  talking,  meantime,  of  the 
ministers) — those  who  are  putting  heart  and  mind  and 
substance  into  it  "con  amore" — are,  far  and  away,  the 
wholesomest  and  happiest  people  I  know. 

There,  then  was  the  secret  of  the  contagious  labors  and 
the  contagious  liberality  of  a  group  of  first-century  Chris- 
tians: "They  .  .  .  first  gave  their  own  selves  to 
the  Lord."     And  the  secret  is  precisely  the  same  today. 


XXI 

'FAITH  DIVERSIFIED  BY  DOUBT' 

"Lord,  I  believe:  help  Thou  mine  unbelief.*' — Mark  IX, 
24. 

\X7^E  have  seen,  from  our  New  Testament  reading  this 
morning,  by  whom  and  in  what  circumstances  these 
words  were  first  spoken.  It  seems  to  me,  however,  that 
they  are  not  by  any  means  out  of  date,  and  that  they  suit 
every  single  one  of  us.  In  some  degree  we  all  "believe" 
— we  all  have  faith.  But  our  belief  is  more  or  less  flecked 
with  unbelief.  We  are  living — most  of  us,  anyhow,  are 
living — what  Browning  calls  a  life  "of  faith  diversified 
by  doubt."  Our  faith  is  not  by  any  means  complete  and 
perfect.     "Lord,  I  believe;    help  Thou  mine  unbelief." 

You  remember  how  the  Apostles'  Creed  puts  "I  be- 
lieve in  the  forgiveness  of  sins"  after  "I  believe  in  the 
communion  of  saints."  After,  not  before:  as  if  to  imply 
that  those  who  may  fairly  claim  to  belong  to  the  Com- 
munion of  Saints  are  liable  to  fall  into  sin,  and  so  to  need 
forgiveness.  That  is  true  to  experience.  And  similarly 
those  who  can  honestly  say,  "I  believe:  I  believe  in  God, 
I  believe  In  Jesus  Christ,  I  believe  in  the  Spiritual  World, 
I  believe  in  the  worth  of  the  human  soul,  I  believe  in  the 
best" — those  who  can  honestly  say,  "I  believe"  are  not 
exempt  from  the  suggestions  and  the  subtleties  and  the 
depressions  and  the  ensnarements  of  unbelief.  The  life 
of  Faith  Is  not  all  plain  sailing.     There  are  occasional 

210 


"Faith  Diversified  by  Doubt*'  211 

storms.  There  are  treacherous  currents.  There  are  hid- 
den rocks.  And  St.  Paul  speaks  in  one  place,  you  remem- 
ber, of  those  who  "concerning  faith  have  made  ship- 
wreck." 

Now,  friends,  once  for  all  will  you  understand  that  I 
am  not  speaking  specifically  this  morning  of  our  docu- 
mentary Faith,  of  those  stereotyped  statements  of  Chris- 
tian belief  which  we  find  in  our  creeds  and  catechisms.  I 
will  yield  to  no  man  in  respect  for  these  documents,  and 
in  admiration  of  some  of  them.  What  I  have  in  mind, 
however,  this  morning  is  the  working  Faith — the  every- 
day faith — of  the  average  man;  or,  perhaps  I  should  say, 
of  the  average  Christian.  Not  the  Faith  which  is  an 
intellectual  assent  to  a  series  of  propositions;  but  the 
Faith  which  is  **a  sentiment,  for  it  is  a  hope;  .  .  . 
an  instinct,  for  it  precedes  all  outward  instruction."  The 
Faith  which,  as  I  have  already  hinted,  we  all  have  and 
hold-to,  however  feebly  and  faultily  at  times. 

Yes,  we  all  have  it — less  or  more.  Indeed,  we  all  must 
have  it,  less  or  more.  We  can't  get  along  without  it. 
"Without  faith,"  it  has  been  said,  "a  man  can  do  noth- 
ing. .  .  .  The  need  of  faith  never  leaves  us."  Ay, 
"the  need  of  faith"  never  leaves  us:  but  sometimes  the 
thing  itself  is  like  to  leave  us,  and  we  are  moved  to  say, 
"Lord,  I  believe;   help  Thou  mine  unbelief." 

And,  my  friends,  will  you  not  agree  with  me  that,  in 
these  very  days  of  ours,  men  and  women  are  becoming 
more  and  more  persuaded  of  "the  need  of  faith :"  nay 
more,  that  they  are  actually  believing  more,  and  believ- 
ing more  earnestly  and  more  cordially — believing  in  the 


212  The  Imperishable  Heart 

best  things — believing  in  the  spiritual  valuation  of  life? 
We  vs^ant  to  believe — these  days.  We  want  to  have 
Faith:  "the  reasonable  faith  of  resolute  and  open-eyed 
men;"  the  sort  of  Faith  w^hich  will  "remove  mountains" 
of  difficulty,  which  will  see  good  back  of  all  evil,  and 
which  will  make  each  new  day  a  day  of  spiritual  achieve- 
ment and  a  day  of  joy. 

There  are  many  signs  that  it  is  so.  There  are  many 
Indications  that  men,  today,  are  very  serious  in  'feeling 
after  God;'  that  they  are  looking  very  earnestly  at  "the 
things  which  are  not  seen" — but  eternal ;  that  they  are 
taking  a  spiritual  view  of  life.  In  so  much  that  some  one 
has  said,  quite  recently,  "the  spiritual  tide  Is  rising." 

Some  years  ago  Dr.  Henry  Van  Dyke  Issued  a  little 
book  called  "The  Gospel  for  an  Age  of  Doubt."  Well, 
It  has  been  suggested  (and  wisely,  too,  I  think)  that  the 
book  for  today  would  be  "The  Gospel  for  an  Age  of  De- 
sire." Precisely  so.  Men,  It  Is  true,  are  not  done  with 
their  doubts ;  and  never  will  be  on  this  side  of  time.  But 
today,  It  seems,  they  are  desiring  more  and  more  to  have 
their  doubts  disciplined,  and  desiring — if  it  may  be — to 
increase  and  abound  In  faith.  Indeed  many  of  us  are 
coming  to  feel  the  truth  of  what  Phillips  Brooks  once 
said, — that  "to  believe  much,  and  not  to  believe  little,  is 
the  privilege  and  glory  of  a  full-grown  man."  And  so 
we  keep  saying,  "Lord,  I  believe;  help  Thou  mine  un- 
belief." 

Then,  is  it  not  the  fact  that  the  leading  philosophers 
of  today  are  overwhelmingly  spiritual  in  the  trend  of  their 
thinking:  such  men  as  Eucken  and  Bergson,  and  Royce 
and  Bosanquet?     Not  to  speak  of  the  writers  of  the  edi- 


"Faith  Diversified  by  Doubt**  213 

torfals  and  the  other  principal  articles  in  our  best  peri- 
odicals. Yes,  the  spiritual  note — the  note  of  Faith — is 
sounding  strong  these  days.  No  doubt  about  it.  We 
have  had,  it  is  true,  Nietzsche  and  Bernhardi  on  the 
Continent  of  Europe, — with  their  crass  materialism  and 
their  gospel  of  brute  force.  But  the  naked  outcome  of 
that  is  plain  enough  over  yonder,  and  our  hearts  are  up 
in  revolt  at  that  v^^hole  damnable  philosophy  of  life.  Yes, 
suppose  you  open,  tomorrow,  any  recent  book  of  conse- 
quence, or  any  magazine  of  good  repute,  or  almost  any 
decent  newspaper;  you  will  find,  almost  for  certain,  a 
striking  of  the  spiritual  note  and  an  atmosphere  of  holy 
human  desire. 

Then,  again,  it  is  a  notorious  fact  that  the  Science 
of  today  is  far  less  materialistic  than  it  was,  say,  quarter  of 
a  century  ago — or  even  less.  "It  is  simply  an  impertin- 
ence," said  an  eminent  British  geologist  lately,  "(it  is 
simply  an  impertinence)  to  say  that  the  leading  scientists 
are  irreligious  or  anti-Christian.  Such  a  statement  could 
only  be  made  by  some  scatterbrained  chatterbox  or  zeal- 
ous fanatic."  Indeed,  brethren,  it  seems  to  me  that  some 
of  the  scientists  of  today  are  becoming  almost  alarmingly 
spiritual;  in  other  words,  highly  spiritualistic.  Anyhow 
the  fact  remains  that  our  men  of  science  have  largely 
ceased  to  construe  life  exclusively  in  materialistic  terms, 
and  are  allowing  for  the  reality  of  the  Spiritual  World 
and  the  reasonableness  and  the  right  of  Faith. 

Then,  I  have  referred  to  the  European  war  at  present 
raging.  Any  evidence  there — do  you  ask — of  the  'rising 
of  the  spiritual  tide?'  O  yes,  certainly.  For  I  am  per- 
suaded,  to   begin   with,   that   the  vast  majority  of   the 


214  The  Imperishable  Heart 

people  of  these  belligerent  Powers  feel  that  the  whole 
thing  is  diabolically  wicked,  is  entirely  out  of  harmony 
with  the  ideals  of  the  twentieth  century,  is  an  insult  to 
the  present-day  Faith  of  Civilized  Humanity.  .  .  . 
And  what  are  we  thinking  and  saying  about  it  all,  over 
here  ?  Are  we  not  being  aroused  to  a  new  enthusiasm  for 
righteousness,  to  a  new  preference  for  the  Spirit  of  Christ 
and  the  principles  of  the  Christian  Gospel?  And,  are 
we  not  being  moved  to  a  great  heart-searching — moved  to 
say  within  ourselves,  "Yes,  we  believe:  but,  in  practice  af- 
ter all,  we  have  been  giving  too  large  a  place  to  our  un- 
belief— to  our  doubts  and  to  our  cynicism  and  to  our 
materalism:  we  have  been,  in  short,  largely  living  as 
if  we  did  not  believe.  We  must  be  more  worthy 
of  our  heritage  of  faith.  We  must  be  more  worthy  of 
our  best  convictions.  'Lord,  we  believe;  help  Thou  our 
unbelief?'" 

O  yes,  my  friends,  we  all  know  well  enough  that  it 
is  the  men  and  women  of  Faith  that  we  are  ready  to  pin 
our  faith  to :  those  who  "dream  dreams"  of  things  worth 
while  and  "see  visions"  of  good  overcoming  evil:  those 
who  believe  in  God  and  in  Humanity,  and  who  "love  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity"  and  are  prepared  to  try 
His  way  at  all  hazards.  Yes,  I  say,  these  are  the  men 
and  women  whom  in  our  heart  of  hearts  we  respect  and 
admire,  and  whose  very  Faith  we  "covet  earnestly."   .   .   . 

How  then  (let  us  now  ask) — how  then  are  we  to  cut 
out,  more  and  more,  our  faithlessness,  and  to  ensure  that 
our  Faith  be  'increased?'  "Lord,  I  believe;  help  Thou 
mine  unbelief." 


"Faith  Diversified  by  Doubt**  21$ 

I 

First  of  all,  I  would  say,  Don't  be  discouraged. 

In  most  of  us  there  is  a  considerable  mixture  of  belief 
and  unbelief.  That  is  no  crime;  albeit  unfortunate  and 
damaging. 

Consequently  the  Word  of  God  here  is  wonderfully 
considerate  in  this  matter.  The  case  of  this  man  in  the 
Gospels,  for  instance,  is  verily  jor  our  sake.  You  know 
how  Christ  dealt  with  him.  He  granted  his  request.  He 
gave  him  his  desire.  And,  presumably,  He  did  'help 
his  unbelief;  the  man  having  been  frank  enough  to  ac- 
knowledge  his   limitations. 

There  you  are,  then.  You  need  not  pretend  to  a  faith 
which  you  do  not  possess.  Be  quite  frank  in  the  mat- 
ter. Go  on  with  what  faith  you  have,  and  the  "in- 
crease" will  come.  Our  Father  in  heaven  does  not  de- 
mand of  us  a  full  and  perfect  faith:  He  asks  just  so 
much  faith  as  will  draw  us  to  Him  to  help  out  what  we 
have, — "Lord,  I  believe;    help  Thou  mine  unbelief." 


II 


Next,  I  would  say.  We  shall  do  well  to  put  ourselves 
in  the  way  of  acquiring  a  fuller  and  firmer  and  finer 
Faith.     As  St.  Paul  says,  "Faith  cometh  by  hearing." 

It  has  been  remarked,  indeed,  that  "faith  is  the  herit- 
age of  the  individual  at  birth ;  .  .  .  it  is  an  instinct." 
Yes,  there  is  a  certain  proportion  of  faith  born  in  us,  just 
as  there  is  a  certain  proportion  of  intelligence  born  in  us. 
But  it  requires  to  be  cultivated,  just  as  the  other  requires 


21 6  The  Imperishable  Heart 

to  be  cultivated.  We  can't  expect  it  to  grow  and  to 
prosper  by  magic,  any  more  than  we  can  expect  either  the 
physique  or  the  intellect  of  a  child  to  grow  without  the 
proper  care — without  nourishment  (material  and  mental). 

What  then?  Let  us  put  ourselves  in  the  way  of  what 
will  help  our  Faith,  not  hinder  it.  There  are  the  right 
sort  of  books  to  read  and  the  right  sort  of  men  and  women 
to  make  companions  of.  Above  all,  there  are  the  inter- 
pretation-of-life  and  the-vision-of-human-uplift  and  the- 
truth-of-the-Universal-Fatherhood-of-God  which  Jesus  has 
given  us,  and  which,  if  we  hold  to  them,  will  make  our 
Faith  rich  and  warm. 

If  you  wish  to  get  from  here  to  New  York  City,  you  do 
not  make  for  Chicago.     Even  so,  when  you  pray,  "Lord, 

.  .  .  help  Thou  mine  unbelief,"  you  must  make  the 
prayer  intelligently  and  purposefully,  and  set  your  face  in 
the  right  direction.  Or,  to  quote  St.  Paul  again,  "What- 
soever things  are  true,  whatsoever  things  are  honorable, 
whatsoever  things  are  just,  whatsoever  things  are  pure, 

.  .  .  lovely,  ...  of  good  report;  if  there  be 
any  virtue,  and  if  there  be  any  praise;  think  on  these 
things** 

"I  being  in  the  way,  the  Lord  led  me." 
"They  shall  ask  the  way  to  Zion,  with  their  faces  thither- 
ward." 

Ill 

Next,  I  would  say.  Be  wise  enough  and  wary  enough 
to  keep  in  mind  that  Faith  is  not  always  an  easy  thing  to 
hold. 

Doesn't  the  Book  here  speak  of  "the     .     .     .     fight  of 


"Faith  Diversified  by  Doubt"  21 7 

faith,"  and  "the  trial  of     .     .     .     faith,"  and  so  on? 

O  yes,  "there  are  many  adversaries."  There  are  all 
sorts  of  things  that  seem  to  say  "No"  to  our  deepest  con- 
victions and  our  best  beliefs  and  our  holiest  hopes. 

To  say  the  least  of  it,  we  need  to  be  on  our  guard. 
And  sometimes  we  need  to  strike  at  the  "adversaries," — 
to  strike  at  the  cynicism  and  the  sensualism  which  are  sub- 
versive of  all  faith. 

Consequently  we  read  here  about  "putting  on  the  breast- 
plate of  Faith,"  and  "taking  the  shield  of  Faith,     .     . 

.  and  the  sword  of  the  Spirit."  And,  writing  to  one 
of  the  Churches,  St.  Paul  commends  his  readers  for  'the 
steadfastness  of   their   Faith.' 

Yes,  we've  got  to  "keep  a  goin'."  About  sixty  years 
ago  Henry  Rogers  published  his  "Eclipse  of  Faith:"  a 
most  suggestive  and  helpful  book  in  its  time, — and  it 
would  be  so  were  it  read  today.  Anyhow  the  title  of  the 
book  is  significant — "The  Eclipse  of  Faith."  For,  verily, 
our  best  beliefs  are  sometimes  eclipsed — darkened  out  of 
all  recognition:  our  belief  in  God,  our  belief  in  Human 
Nature,  our  belief  in  the  ultimate  triumph  of  truth  and 
goodness.  But  we  have  seen  eclipses  of  the  moon;  and 
we  know  that  the  moon  emerges  from  her  eclipse — ^how? 
By  preserving  her  proper  motion — by  keeping  a-going. 
Which  thing  is  an  allegory,  and  suits  our  case. 


IV 


And  so  I  would  say,  next.   Don't  forget  that  Faith 
requires  exercise. 

"Faith  without  works  is  dead,"  says  St.  James,  you 


21 8  The  Imperishable  Heart 

remember.  And  we  read,  also,  here,  of  "the  work  of 
Faith  with  power,"  of  "the  obedience  of  Faith,"  of  "the 
sacrifice  and  service  of     .     .     .     Faith;"     and  so  forth. 

It  is  said  that  sailors,  by  using  their  eyes  to  sight  land 
or  to  sight  other  vessels  at  sea  or  to  sight  dangers  ahead, 
acquire  unusual  keenness  of  sight.  Even  so,  the  eye  of 
faith  is  strengthened  by  exercise.  "The  life  which  I  now 
live  in  the  flesh  I  live  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of  God." 

There  you  have  it.  Live  in  the  inspiration  of  your  best 
beliefs.  Do  your  daily  work,  converse  with  your  fellow- 
men,  live  your  home-life,  deal  with  your  children,  deal 
with  everybody  in  the  inspiration  of  your  best  beliefs. 
And,  not  least  important,  take  active  part  in  the  "work 
of  faith"  which  the  Church  of  Christ  and  its  allied  insti- 
tutions are  essaying  to  do.  And,  as  sure  as  the  sunrise, 
your  doubts  and  misgivings  will  become  fewer,  your  de- 
pressions will  mostly  disappear,  and  you  will  begin  to 
"abound  in  Faith." 

Yes,  the  best  cure  for  unbelief  is  action.  Work  for 
the  best,  and  you  will  believe  in  the  best. 


Never  forgetting,  in  all  your  wholesome  Christian  ac- 
tivities, (never  forgetting)  that  "Faith  .  .  .  work- 
eth  by  love/' 

O  yes,  it  is  Love  that  "beareth  all  things,  believeth  all 
things,  hopeth  all  things." 

So  long  as  we  think  and  live  within  our  own  narrow 
spheres,  so  long  as  we  keep  ourselves  closely  and  selfishly 
to  ourselves,  our  best  beliefs  have  a  poor  chance:  they  are 


"Faith  Diversified  by  Doubt**  219 

apt,  so,  to  shrivel  up  and  die.  But  once  we  catch  the 
contagion  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  once  we  learn  to  go 
out  of  ourselves  and  to  'spend  and  be  spent'  in  trying 
to  make  this  world  purer  and  brighter  and  kindlier,  our 
faith  becomes  emancipated  and  refreshed  and  we  are  on 
the  way  to  have  "joy  and  peace  in  believing." 

Yes,  after  all  has  been  said,  Love  is  the  master-key  to 
the  situation.     For  "Love  never  faileth." 
These  two,  then,  are  companion  prayers: — 
Lord,   make   us   "to   increase  and   abound   in   love  one 
toward  another,  and  toward  all  men;"    and.  Lord,  "in- 
crease our  faith." 


XXII 

ABIDING  WEALTH 

"  .     .     .     rich  toward  God'' — LuKE  XII,  21. 

ttl?  ICH  toward  God!"  That  is  to  say,  rich  in  God's 
estimate — rich  according  to  His  way  of  account- 
ing— rich  in  the  things  that  are  worth  while  and  abiding 
and  God-approved. 

Yes,  that  is  to  be  wealthy  indeed, — rich  in  those  things 
which  "neither  moth  nor  rust  doth  corrupt"  and  which 
"thieves"  may  not  "steal." 

The  truth  is,  brethren,  our  ideas  of  wealth  are  almost 
wholly  materialistic.  We  count  a  man  rich,  who  is  a 
moneyed  man,  or  who  has  real  estate  or  some  other  kind 
of  this  world's  gear  in  great  plenty.  But  the  New  Tes- 
tament has  wonderfully  little  to  say  about  that  sort  of 
wealth;  except,  for  the  most  part,  to  pity  it  and  to  point 
out  its  dangers.  It  is  a  different  conception  of  wealth  al- 
together that  you  get  here.  "I  know  thy  .  .  .  pov- 
erty," says  the  message  in  the  Book  of  Revelation  to  the 
Church  in  Smyrna — a  much  persecuted  Church  and  far 
from  being  a  wealthy  Church — ,  "I  know  thy  works,  and 
tribulation,  and  poverty;  (but  thou  art  rich),"  adds  the 
Voice  in  an  arresting  and  illuminating  parenthesis.  "But 
thou  art  rich !"  What  did  that  mean  ?  Why,  it  meant — 
surely — that  (spite  of  their  "tribulation  and  poverty") 
those  people  were  "rich  toward  God:"  that  they  were 
aboundingly   devout   and   courageous   and   loyal-to-truth- 

220 


Abiding  Wealth  221 

and-duty  and  ready  to  be  ''faithful  unto  death."  "Ye 
know  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,"  writes  St. 
Paul,  you  remember,  "(ye  know  the  grace  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ),  that,  though  He  was  rich,  yet  for  your 
sakes  He  became  poor."  Ay,  but  it  is  implied  all  through, 
and  it  is  the  simple  fact,  that  the  Christ  was  never  richer 
than  when  He  'laid  down  His  life,' — ^was  never  richer  in 
compassion  and  in  influence  and  in  tokens  of  the  Father's 
approval : 

"Did  e'er  such  love  and  sorrow  meet, 
Or  thorns  compose  so  rich  a  crown  T 
So  that  in  His  case  the  old  prophetic  word  had  a  remark- 
able kind  of  fulfilment,  "And  He  made  His  grave     . 

.     .     with  the  rich  in  His  death." 

There  are  quite  a  few  things  that  money  cannot  buy. 
There  are  three  things,  in  particular,  that  money  cannot 
buy:  health,  brains,  and  salvation.  No  doubt  a  large 
bank  account  may  enable  a  man  to  procure  the  very  best 
medical  service  or  to  make  his  way  to  the  very  finest 
of  climates, — and  so  forth :  but,  after  all  has  been  said,  you 
cannot  buy  health.  No  doubt,  also,  the  moneyed  man  may 
buy  books  and  may  take  advantage  of  educational  oppor- 
tunities which  are  closed  to  those  of  limited  means,  and 
so  forth:  but,  after  all  has  been  said,  you  cannot  buy 
brains,  and,  in  point  of  fact,  some  of  the  world's  greatest 
thinkers  and  greatest  writers  and  greatest  artists  and 
greatest  statesmen  have  been  poor — or  next  door  to  it. 
And,  as  for  buying  salvation — as  for  purchasing  emanci- 
pation of  soul  and  purity  of  heart  and  largeness  of  mind 
and  rectitude  and  usefulness  of  life,  and  a  safe  convoy  to 
the  Better  Country,  that  is  entirely  out  of  the  question: 


222  The  Imperishable  Heart 

"for  by  grace  are  ye  saved  through  faith;  and  that  not 
of  yourselves :  it  is  the  gift  of  God :  not  of  works,  lest  any 
man  should  boast." 

Then — thank  God — there  are  some  things  that  lack- 
of-money  cannot  deprive  us  of:  some  mind-and-heart 
riches  of  which  poverty  cannot  bankrupt  us. 

"He'll  hae  misfortunes  great  an'  sma',  " 
said  Robert  Burns  of  himself — as  if  prophetically, 
"He'll   hae  misfortunes  great  an'   sma,' 
"But  ay  a  heart  aboon  them  a'." 
Yes,  that  is  one  kind  of  wealth  that  the  very  poorest  of  the 
poor  may  possess,  and  may  possess  securely  and  abidingly: 
the  "unconquerable  soul" — a  heart  of  good  cheer. 

"Our  greatest  yet  with  least  pretence,     .     .     . 
"Rich   in   saving  common-sense," 
wrote  Tennyson  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington.      That  is 
another   kind   of   wealth    that   may  consort  with   scanty 
means:  common-sense.     To  have  it  is  to  be  able  to  live 
richly:  not  to  have  it  is  to  be  mighty  poor. 

Then,  to  be  sure,  you  do  not  require  to  be  passing 
rich  in  order  to  breathe  God's  fresh  air,  or  in  order  to 
enjoy  the  smell  of  the  newly-turned  earth  in  Spring,  or 
in  order  to  reciprocate  the  sparkling  courtesy  of  the  stars. 
"My  neighbor  may  have  abundance  of  riches;  but  he  is 
no  nearer  the  stars  than  I  am."  And,  I  have  one  or  two 
friends  and  one  or  two  accomplishments  which,  I  fully 
think,  I  would  not  exchange  for  all  the  money  in  the  Em- 
pire State.  "Wherefore  do  ye  spend  money  .  .  . 
and  j^our  labour  for  that  which  satisfieth  not?" 

Truly,  my  friends,  in  the  enjoyment  of  life's  best  gifts 
"the  rich  and  poor  meet  together:  the  Lord  is  the  maker 


Abiding  Wealth  223 

of  them  all." 

Suppose  we  ask,  now,  a  little  more  in  detail  just  what 
it  is  to  be  "rich  toward  God?"  And  for  a  little  chain  of 
answers  to  that  question — both  the  suggestions  and  the 
phrasing  of  them — let  us  keep  to  the  Bible:  we  can't 
do  better. 

First  of  all,  then,  you  read  in  the  Epistle  of  James  as 
follows,  "Hath  not  God  chosen  the  poor  of  this  world 
rich  in  faith,  and  heirs  of  the  kingdom.     .     .     .      ?" 

"Rich  in  Faith!''  That,  in  good  sooth,  is  to  dwell  in 
"a  wealthy  place."  To  be  incredulous,  to  be  sceptical,  to 
be  without  the  vision  and  verve  and  vigor  of  Faith  is  to  be 
a  very  poor  sort  of  human.  It  is  to  be  mentally  and 
spiritually  bankrupt;  andy  in  respect  of  enterprise,  re- 
sourceless.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  to  believe  in  God, — 
that  HE  is  before  all  things  and  back  of  all  things,  All- 
powerful  and  All-wise  and  All-loving;  to  believe  in  Jesus 
Christ, — in  His  way  of  thinking  and  living  and  in  the 
persuasions  of  His  Spirit  and  the  power  and  promise  of 
His  grace;  to  believe  in  ourselves  as  the  children  of  God 
and  the  'captains  of  our  souls;'  to  believe  in  "the  other 
fellow"  as  a  fellow  to  be  encouraged  and  befriended ;  and 
to  believe  in  "the  ultimate  decency  of  things,"  and  that 
"There  was  never  winter 
But  brought  the  spring;" — 
why,  that  is  to  live  a  full,  rich  life.  Yes  truly,  my 
friends,  it  is  faith,  not  finances,  that  enables  us  to  live 
both  restfully  and  royally.  You  remember  how  the  rich 
young  ruler  "went  away  sorrowful"  from  Jesus  and  His 


224  ^^^  Imperishable  Heart 

tender  invitation, — how  he  "went  away  sorrowful;  for  he 
had  great  possessions."  It  was  his  very  "possessions"  that 
stood  in  the  way  of  his  peace  and  made  him  a  poor  man. 

And,  my  friends,  let  me  tell  you  this:  no  matter  how 
materially  prosperous  a  whole  People  may  be — as  the 
People  of  this  Country  are  prospering  today — ,  if  they 
are  not  "rich  in  faith"  their  prosperity  will  be  but  a  snare 
to  them.  It  will  mean  pride,  and  pleasure  running  riot, 
and  probably  also  war- fever.  And,  "where  there  is  no 
vision,  the  people  perish."  I  like  especially  these  two 
lines  from  our  national  hymn: 

"Long  may  our  land  be  bright 
"With  freedom's  holy  light." 
Not    'freedom's   hilarious   glitter;'     but    "freedom's   holy 
light!" 

Next,  doesn't  St.  Paul  speak  of  God  being  ''rich  in 
mercy"?  Another  most  enviable — another  imperishable 
— type  of  wealth!  But  not  necessarily  confined  to  the 
Father  Himself:  for  the  Master  says,  "Be  ye  therefore 
merciful,  as  your  Father  also  is  merciful." 

"Rich  in  Mercy:"  in  thoughtfulness,  in  compassion,  in 
kindness,  in  forbearance;  rich  in  the  gifts  of  encourage- 
ment and  good  cheer.     What  winsome  wealth ! — 

"It  is  twice  blest; 
"It  blesseth  him  that  gives  and  him  that  takes." 

No  doubt  about  the  'richness'  of  God's  Mercy:  but 
what  of  ours,  my  friends?  Let  me  commend  to  you  a  great 
passage  from  one  of  Emerson's  great  Essays  (his  Essay  on 
"Manners"):  "What  is  rich?"  he  asks,  "Are  you  rich 
enough  to  help  anybody  ?  to  succour  the  unfashionable  and 


Abiding  Wealth  225 

the  eccentric?  rich  enough  to  make  .  .  .  the  itiner- 
ant with  his  consul's  paper  which  commends  him  "To  the 
charitable,"  the  swarthy  Italian  with  his  few  broken 
words  of  English,  the  lame  pauper  hunted  by  overseers 
from  town  to  town,  even  the  poor  insane  or  besotted 
wreck  of  man  or  woman,  feel  the  noble  exceptions  of 
your  presence  and  your  house,  from  the  general  bleakness 
and  stoniness;  to  make  such  feel  that  they  were  greeted 
with  a  voice  which  made  them  both  remember  and  hope? 
.  .  .  Without  the  rich  heart,  wealth  is  an  ugly  beg- 
gar." .  .  .  "Are  you  rich  enough  to. help  anybody?" 
and,  "the  rich  heart!"  Can  you  beat  that?  Rich  in 
money  is  nothing  compared  with  being  "rich  in  Mercy." 

Next,  do  we  not  read,  in  the  Book  of  Proverbs,  "He 
becometh  poor  that  dealeth  with  a  slack  hand:  but  the 
hand  of  the  diligent  maketh  rich?"  Another  type  of  God- 
approved  wealth, — Diligence. 

That  a  man  is  well-off  does  not  necessarily  imply  either 
that  he  has  been  a  niggard  or  that  he  has  been  a  knave. 
In  many  cases — perhaps  in  the  vast  majority  of  cases — it 
just  implies  that  he  has  been  diligent,  "not  slothful  in 
business."  We  are  sometimes  amazed  at  the  large  sums 
of  money  which  some  individuals  can  command  for  a  single 
evening's  work:  the  great  musicians,  for  instance,  like 
Paderewski  and  Caruso,  and  even  Harry  Lauder  with 
his  contagious  nonsense,  and  others.  Yes,  but  our  amaze- 
ment would  be  somewhat  lessened,  if  we  only  knew  the 
amount  of  hard  work  which  such  individuals  have  put  in. 
And  mark  you  this,  the  things  that  seem  to  come  most 
spontaneously  and  most  easily  from  the  great  artists  are, 


226  The  Imperishable  Heart 

not  seldom,  the  very  things  that  have  cost  the  most  thought 
and  the  most  toil. 

My  friends — my  young  friends  especially — ,  if  you 
wish  to  work  your  way  to  wealth  (and  there  will  be  no 
dishonor  in  that,  provided  you  are  minded  to  acquire  your 
wealth  fairly  and  to  use  it  Christianly) — if  you  wish  to 
work  your  way  to  wealth,  be  sure  of  this:  that  Diligence 
is  essential,  that  you  will  have  to  get  down  to  business  and 
stay  there.  Remember  that,  as  some  one  has  said,  "the 
world  is  looking  for  the  man  who  can  do  something;  not 
for  the  man  who  can  'explain'  why  he  didn't  do  it:"  also 
that  "it's  no  use  to  wait  for  our  ship  to  come  in  unless  we 
have  sent  one  out." 

But,  brethren,  with  material  wealth  as  the  outcome  of  it 
or  otherwise,  the  "diligent"  life  is  the  "rich"  life — "rich 
toward  God."  For,  do  you  know  what  the  word  "dili- 
gence" literally  means?  It  means  something  more  and 
better  than  just  plodding  along  at  your  work  as  a  matter 
of  stark  obligation.  The  word  comes  from  a  Latin  word 
meaning  'to  choose.'  So  that  to  be  "diligent"  means  tak- 
ing to  your  appointed  tasks  as  if  they  were  matters 
of  choice — 'labors  of  love:'  and  so,  putting  your  whole 
soul  into  them,  putting  your  best  into  them.  That  will 
make  your  life  rich, — no  matter  how  little  you  actually 
earn.     "The  hand  of  the  diligent  maketh  rich." 

Next,  doesn't  St.  Paul  write,  in  his  First  Epistle  to 
Timothy,  "Charge  them  that  are  rich  in  this  world,     . 

.  .  that  they  do  good,  that  they  be  rich  in  good  works, 
ready  to  distribute,  willing  to  communicate?'*  "Rich  in 
Good  Works!"     Another  fine  type  of  wealth. 


Abiding  Wealth  227 

"Ready  to  distribute,  willing  to  communicate."  Yes, 
we  may  say  that  "a  man  is  rich  in  proportion  to  the  num- 
ber of  things  he  can  let  alone" — the  number  of  things  he 
can  give  away  and  do  without.  Paderewski,  the  great 
pianist,  had,  until  quite  recently,  ample  means.  He  had 
a  house  in  Paris,  a  chateau  in  Switzerland,  and  sundry 
"expensive  habits  and  hobbies."  But  he  has  been  so 
touched  by  the  sufferings  of  his  countrymen  in  Poland, 
that  he  has  parted  with  practically  his  whole  fortune  in 
their  behalf,  and  is  now  about  to  go  on  tour  again  to 
'make  a  living'  (as  he  himself  has  phrased  it).  Well,  I 
will  say  that  Paderewski  was  never  a  "richer"  man  than 
he  is  today — with  his  big  fortune  renounced  for  love's 
sake  and  for  his  home-land's  sake.  Sir  Walter  Scott,  the 
wizard  of  the  pen,  was  never  a  "richer"  man  than  the 
day  he  was  financially  ruined :  for  he  straightway  "march- 
ed breast  forward"  and  proceeded  to  do  the  greatest  work 
of  his  life. 

Brethren,  if  we  will  worship  Wealth,  let  it  be  the 
Wealth  that  counts  with  God, — wealth  of  courage,  wealth 
of  self-renunciation.  And,  if  we  will  be  "rich,"  let  it  be 
"rich  in  good  works." 

Then,  again,  there  is  a  very  remarkable  kind  of  Rich- 
ness "toward  God"  of  which  the  New  Testament  speaks: 
where  it  says,  "as  poor,  yet  making  many  rich."  The 
wealth  of  Enriching  Service. 

And  by  that,  my  friends,  I  mean  not  simply,  as  I  have 
been  saying  already  this  morning,  giving  of  our  substance 
to  help ;  but  giving  ourselves — our  whole  soul's  influence 
— so  as,  if  it  may  be,  to  enrich  other  people's  souls,  to 


228  The  Imperishable  Heart 

give  them  a  new  hold  of  God  and  new  heart  of  grace 
through  the  friendship  of  Christ  and  a  new  outlook  upon 
life.  Some  one  has  said  that  there  are  individuals  who, 
by  their  presence  and  their  wisdom  and  their  loftiness  of 
tone,  create  in  their  fellow-mortals  *'a  new  consciousness 
of  wealth,  by  opening  their  eyes  to  unobserved  ad- 
vantages,"— and  (I  should  like  to  add)  by  opening  their 
eyes  to  the  blessing  and  beauty  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ. 
Now,  that  is  "making  .  .  .  rich."  That  is  the 
wealth  of  Enriching  Service,  where,  blessed  as  it  is  to 
''receive,"  it  is  even  ''more  blesssed  to  give."  And,  we 
don't  require  money  to  excel  along  that  line.  No,  nor 
brilliant  intellects  either.  No,  nor  conspicuous  social  po- 
sition either.  A  pure  and  loving  heart  and  a  kindly  hand 
and  spontaneity  and  frankness — in  a  word,  being  our  best 
selves — is  all  that  is  needed.  "As  poor,  yet  making  many 
rich." 

And  of  course,  my  friends,  the  crowning  instance  of  this 
wealth  of  Enriching  Service  is  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
Himself, — "Who,  for  the  joy  that  was  set  before  Him, 
endured  the  cross,  despising  the  shame."  What  "joy  that 
was  set  before  Him?"  Not  just  the  "joy"  of  returning  to 
the  Father's  nearer  presence  and  resuming  His  place  of 
distinction  and  glory;  but,  I  take  it,  the  "joy"  of  making 
His  brethren  of  mankind  free  and  glad  and  worthy-of- 
their-heavenly-citizenship.  Yes,  "as  poor,  yet  making 
many  rich:"  and  therefore  not  "poor"  after  all,  but  rich 
beyond  all  computation  in  being  the  incomparable  'Help- 
er and  Friend'  of  Humanity. 

And.  then,  my  friends,  I  wish  to  close  by  reminding 


Abiding  Wealth  229 

you  of  one  other  saying  of  the  great  Book:  ''The  bless- 
ing of  the  Lord,  it  maketh  rich." 

"The  blessing  of  the  Lord!"  What  does  that  mean? 
Well,  it  is  indescribable.  Most  certainly  it  does  not  mean 
merely  a  series  of  strokes  of  good  luck.  No,  no:  it  means 
far  more — far  better — than  that.  It  means  Inspiration. 
It  means  the  purifying,  and  the  chastening,  and  the  deep- 
ening, and  the  gladdening  of  one's  whole  life.  If,  then, 
my  friend,  you  have  reason  to  be  persuaded  that  God  is 
really  "blessing"  you — in  whatever  way  and  by  whatever 
unlikely-looking  means — ,  then  you  have  equal  reason  to 
insist  that  you,  for  one,  are  a  wealthy  soul — "rich  toward 
God." 


XXIII 

SONGS  IN  THE  NIGHT 

(Christmas,  191 5) 

"God  my  Maker,  who  giveth  songs  in  the  night." — JoB 
XXXV,  10. 

T^  VERY  now  and  then,  In  this  BcMDk  of  books,  you  come 
upon  a  passage  or  a  phrase  which  stands  there  in  its 
own  right,  so  to  speak.  I  mean  that,  in  order  to  appreciate 
the  truth  of  it  and  the  poetry  of  it  and  the  comfort  of  it 
and  the  inspiration  of  it,  you  do  not  of  necessity  have  to 
study  the  whole  chapter  or  paragraph  in  which  it  stands. 
Such  is  the  part  sentence  I  have  taken  for  my  text  this 
morning, — "God  .  .  .  Who  giveth  songs  in  the 
night."  No  matter  what  precise  point  Elihu  means  to 
make  here  in  the  Book  of  Job,  his  phrase  "songs  in  the 
night"  arrests  us  at  once,  and  is  for  all  time. 

Nay  more,  although  it  stands  in  the  pre-Christian  book 
of  Job,  this  phrase  is,  in  essence  and  import,  a  New  Test- 
ament phrase — a  Christian  phrase  ("songs  in  the  night"). 
For  one  of  the  most  distinctive  and  distinguishing  things 
about  Christianity  is  just  the  wonders  it  can  accomplish 
in  unlikely  places,  and  at  unlikely  times,  and  with  unlikely 
things,  and  through  unlikely  people.  "Songs  in  the  night", 
— Gospel  music  in  the  time  of  darkness  and  uncertainty 
and  fear. 

It  is  precisely  this  idea  that  lies  back  of  such  Scripture 
230 


Songs  in  the  Night  ^3! 

sayings  about  the  Almighty  Father  as  His  'furnishing  a 
table  in  the  wilderness,'  and  His  'turning  the  rock  into  a 
standing  water,  and  the  flint  into  a  fountain  of  waters', 
and  His  making  'the  desert  blossom  as  the  rose',  and 
His  bringing  a  Saviour  out  of  unlikely  conditions — like  "a 
root  out  of  a  dry  ground."  And  it  is  the  same  idea  that  is 
embedded  in  such  Apostolic  passages  as  these: — "As  sor- 
rowful, yet  always  rejoicing;  as  poor,  yet  making  many 
rich;  as  having  nothing,  and  yet  possessing  all  things"; 
and,  "Most  gladly  therefore  will  I  rather  glory  in  my 
infirmities,  that  the  power  of  Christ  may  rest  upon  me. 
Therefore  I  take  pleasure  in  infirmities,  in  reproaches,  in 
necessities,  in  persecutions,  in  distresses  for  Christ's  sake: 
for  when  I  am  weak,  then  am  I  strong." 

Yes,  the  "night"  may  be  ever  so  dark,  or  ever  so  long, 
or  ever  so  eerie,  or  ever  so  stormy.  It  may,  in  short,  be 
as  unpropitious  for  music  and  as  hostile  to  song  as  we 
could  well  imagine.  Still  the  God,  Whose  are  both 
summer  and  winter  and  both  south  and  north  and 
both  day  and  night,  "giveth  songs  in  the  night", — music 
in  the  most  unlikely  circumstances:  the  music  of  faith 
and  hope  and  love, — the  music  of  Gospel  cheer. 

Are  we  not  commemorating  the  fact,  these  very  days, 
that  it  was  while  shepherds  were  "keeping  watch  over  their 
flock  by  night''  that  the  Christ  of  God  was  ushered  into 
this  world?  Yes,  "by  night"  in  more  senses  than  one.  Lit- 
erally "by  night" :  when  all  was  dark,  and  the  folk  of  the 
Northern  hemisphere  were  asleep.  In  a  dark  and  obscure 
corner  of  the  world,  too:  in  "little,  obscure  Bethlehem" 
of  "little,  obscure  Judea."  In  one  of  the  night  seasons  of 
human  history,  too:   when  people  were  groping  their  way 


232  The  Imperishable  Heart 

by  the  dim  light  of  uncertain  faiths,  and  when  the  state 
of  society  was  unusually  confused  and  chaotic.  .  .  . 
And  then,  to  whom  were  the  "good  tidings  of  great  joy" 
first  announced  in  song?  To  a  band  of  humble  shep- 
herds, half-shivering  at  their  commonplace  task:  so  that 
"the  very  birth-hour  of  Christianity  irradiated  the  humble 
doings  of  humble  people",  and  for  all  time  "common  work 
was  encircled  with  an  immortal  crown." 
"O  little  town  of  Bethlehem, 

How  still  we  see  thee  lie; 
Above   thy   deep   and   dreamless   sleep 

The  silent  stars  go  by: 
Yet  in  thy  dark  streets  shineth 

The  Everlasting  light.  .  .  ." 
What  a  distinction  for  "little  Bethlehem"  that  night, — 
God's  love  made  articulate  in  song!  What  a  distinction 
for  that  night  of  all  the  nights  of  all  the  years, — that  just 
that  night  came  the  immortal  song  of  Human  Redemp- 
tion !  What  a  distinction  for  any  night-season  of  human 
doubt  and  sorrow, — that  God  may  lighten  it  to  joy  and 
touch  it  to  immortality  with  the  music  of  the  Gospel! 
"God  our  Maker,  Who  giveth  songs  in  the  night." 

"The  Lord  will  command  His  loving  kindness  in  the 
daytime,  and  in  the  night  His  song  shall  be  with  me: 
.  .  .  I  call  to  remembrance  my  song  in  the  night." 
Ah  yes,  my  friends,  what  wonderful  messages  of  grace, 
what  refreshments  of  spirit,  what  healings  and  hearten- 
ings  have  come  to  many  of  us  in  the  'night  seasons'  of  our 
lives — in  our  times  of  deprivation  and  disappointment! 
One  of  last  century's  poets,  whose  verse  is  not  so  well 


Songs  in  the  Night  233 

known  as  it  should  be,  (I  mean,  Lewis  Morris)  says  very 
beautifully  that 

''Only  Suffering  draws 

"The  inner  heart  of  song,  and  can  elicit 

"The  perfumes  of  the  soul." 
And  surely,  my  friends,  it  is  the  indisputable  fact  that,  but 
for  the  shadows  and  thwartings  of  the  great  souls  of 
humanity,  more  than  half  of  the  finest  music  we  have 
would  never  have  been  forthcoming,  and  more  than  half 
of  the  most  inspiring  sermons  that  have  been  preached 
would  never  have  been  even  conceived,  and  more  than 
half  of  the  greatest  books  that  have  enriched  and  cheered 
humanity — from  old  Homer  to  Robert  Louis  Stevenson 
and  Sidney  Lanier  of  our  own  time — ^would  never  have 
seen  the  light  of  day.  Why,  you  have  only  to  mention 
the  names  of,  say,  the  first  score  of  the  greatest  humans 
known  to  us — in  literature  or  in  art  or  in  national  lead- 
ership— to  be  convinced  that  it  is  only  "through  much 
tribulation"  that  the  "helpers  and  friends  of  mankind" 
enter  into  their  "kingdom"  of  character  and  influence  and 
fame.  There  are,  for  example  Milton  in  literature,  and 
Beethoven  in  art,  and  Lincoln  in  national  leadership:  men 
of  many  sorrows.  .  .  .  But  we  do  not  need  to  go 
to  men  and  women  of  distinction  to  be  convinced  of  this 
thing — ^convinced  that  "God  .  .  .  giveth  songs  in 
the  night."  For  surely  there  is  not  a  single  one  of  us 
who  has  really  lived,  who  has  not  heard  the  music  of  God 
in  our  dark  hours  and  in  our  trial  times,  and  who  is  not 
able  to  say  that  these  "songs  in  the  night"  have  been  more 
wonderful  and  more  inspirational  than  any  songs  of  the 
day  or  any  martial  music  of  prosperity!     .     .     . 


234  ^^^  Imperishable  Heart 

"And  there  were  .  .  .  shepherds  *  .  »  keep- 
ing watch  over  their  flocks  by  night.  And,  lo,  the  angel 
of  the  Lord  came  upon  them,  and     .     .     .     said     .     . 

.     ,  Behold,  I  bring  you  good  tidings  of  great  joy     . 

.  .  And  .  .  .  there  was  with  the  angel  a  mul- 
titude of  the  heavenly  host  praising  God."  Astronomers 
tell  us,  you  know,  that  most  of  the  "fixed"  stars  (as  we 
call  them)  are  travelling  through  space  at  an  incredible 
speed.  Be  that  as  it  may,  it  is  practically  certain  that  the 
same  stars  are  shining  down  on  us  these  nights  of  the 
twentieth  century  that  shone  down  upon  the  shepherds 
the  first  Christmas  Eve.  Even  so,  my  friends,  the  same 
music  of  the  Gospel,  the  same  'song  in  the  night,'  the 
same  Christmas  message,  the  same  CHRIST  comes  to  us 
today  that  came  to  Bethlehem  full  nineteen  hundred  years 
ago, — for  "Jesus  Christ  is  the  same  yesterday,  and  today, 
and  for  ever."  Yes,  it  is  there  all  the  time, — wave  upon 
wave  of  holy  and  heartening  music — "The  Night  Song 
of  Bethlehem."  True,  we  may  not  be  hearing  the  angels 
sing  as  the  shepherds  heard  them.  Nay  more,  we  may  not 
be  heeding  the  music  of  the  Gospel  as  it  has  often  been 
heeded  in  days  gone  by.  But,  notwithstanding  our  dull- 
ness and  our  deadness — and  notwithstanding  our  absorp- 
tion in  mere  things — and  notwithstanding  our  querulous- 
ness  and  our  quarrelsomeness,  the  music  of  the  Gospel  is 
there  all  the  while  and  the  angels  keep  on  singing: 
"And  still  their  heavenly  music  floats 
O'er  all  the  weary  world:  « 
Above  its  sad  and  lowly  plains 
They  bend  on  hovering  wing, 


Songs  in  the  Night  ^35 

And  ever  o'er  its  Babel  sounds 
The  blessed  angels  sing." 
If  we  don't  hear  them,  it  is  not  their  fault:  it  is  our 
fault. 

Ay,  but  let  me  tell  you,  friends,  there  are  many  who 
are  hearing  the  angels  sing  these  days,  who  are  detecting 
the  "songs  in  the  night,"  who  are  tracing  streaks  of  light 
and  notes  of  hope  and  promise  in  the  confusion  of  these 
very  days  in  which  there  is  so  much  that  is  of  the  night — 
dark  and  eerie  and  fearsome.  I  have  been  reading,  lately, 
quite  a  little  about  the  Christmas  message  and  the  Christ- 
mas mirth  in  view  of  the  world  situation  today ;  and  noth- 
ing has  impressed  me  more,  in  all  I  have  read,  than  the 
hopefulness  of  it  all  and  the  confident  assumption  that, 
ere  very  long,  a  new  appreciation  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ 
and  a  new  awakening  to  its  fundamental  claims  are  going 
to  bring  order  and  peace  out  of  all  this  confusion.  O 
yes,  my  friends,  be  you  sure  the  music  of  the  Gospel  is  the 
only  thing  that  will  do  it.  Nearly  everything  else  has 
been  tried,  and  has  been  found  a  failure.  Culture  has 
but  sufficed,  for  the  most  part,  to  make  men  proud  and 
overbearing.  Science  has  but  sufficed,  for  the  most  part, 
to  provide  us  with  instruments  of  espionage  and  destruc- 
tion. Art  has  been  sneered-at  as  not  for  fighting  times, 
and  its  treasures  have  been  despised  and  destroyed  with- 
out a  tremor  of  shame.  Diplomacy  is,  apparently,  futile. 
It  remains  yet,  then,  for  the  Christian  Gospel  of  Good- 
Will  to  be  tried.  Yes,  I  say,  to  be  tried ;  for,  if  it  be  said 
that  Christianity  also,  like  Culture  and  Science  and  Di- 
plomacy, has  failed  so  far,  it  is  because — as  a  famous 
American  once  said — it  *'has  not  been  tried." 


236  Tlie  I  m  1)6  lis  liable  Heart 

O,  but  there  are  scores  of  people  all  over  the  earth  today 
who  have  tried  CHRIST,  and  who  are  trying  CHRIST; 
and  who  are  not  being  disappointed  in  Him.  In  how 
many  territories,  in  how  many  homes,  in  how  many  hearts 
there  is,  we  should  be  inclined  to  say,  mighty  little  music 
these  Christmas  Days  of  191 5!  By  reason  of  sickness,  by 
reason  of  business  depression  and  ill-luck,  by  reason  of 
bereavement,  by  reason  of  the  bloody  ravages  of  war,  and 
what  not,  the  light  has  gone  out — we  should  say — in  many 
places,  and  it  is  night  in  many  human  souls.  Ay,  but  the 
Master  Musician  can  still  provide  these  stricken  souls 
with  melodies  of  grace,  and  scores  of  them  are  singing  their 
"songs  in  the  night." 

Have  I  said  that  our  text  this  morning  reminds  us 
that  one  of  the  distinctions  of  Christianity  is  its  knack  and 
power  of  bringing  brightness  and  beauty  and  beneficence 
out  of  unlikely  places  and  through  unlikely  people?  Yes, 
not  a  few  of  those  who  have  conceived  and  commenced 
and  in  part  conducted  some  of  the  greatest  movements  of 
history  have  been  men  and  women  of  no  conspicuous  posi- 
tion: deemed  faddists  and  what  not  (as  Christ  Himself 
was)  by  the  severely  practical  and  the  worldly-wise.  As 
Robert  Louis  Stevenson  says  somewhere,  "The  time  would 
fail  me  if  I  were  to  recite  all  the  names  in  history  whose 
exploits  are  perfectly  irrational  and  even  shocking  to  the 
business  mind".  We  have  been  poking  fun — most  of  us 
(I  plead  guilty  myself) — we  have  been  poking  fun  at  Mr. 
Henry  Ford's  amateur  Peace  Expedition.  Well,  it  is,  to 
say  the  least  of  it,  a  venture  of  faith;  and,  it  being  so,  we 
should  treat  it  with  courtesy.    Moreover,  that  civilian  ven- 


Songs  in  the  Night  237 

ture  is  a  protest  against  the  ineptitude  of  diplomacy  and 
officialdom  to  even  negotiate  for  peace — let  alone  secure  it : 
and,  as  I  have  lived  the  greater  part  of  my  life  in  the 
atmosphere  of  officialdom  and  militarism  which  envelopes 
Europe,  I  would  say,  with  all  my  heart  and  in  the  strong- 
est way  I  can,  God  keep  this  Country  from  generating  a 
similar  atmosphere, — for  it  is  stifling  and  poisonous.  Re- 
member, it  was  no  other  than  George  Washington  who 
said,  in  one  of  his  latest  addresses  to  the  people  of  this 
Country,  "Avoid  overgrown  military  establishments, 
which  are  particularly  hostile  to  republican  liberties." 
And,  in  regard  to  all  such  ventures  of  faith  as  the  Ford 
Peace  Expedition,  let  us  remember  that  wonderful  Old 
Testament  saying,  "Thou  didst  well  in  that  it  was  in  thine 
heart";  and  that  other  Scripture  saying  (New  Testament 
and  Apostolic),  "Therefore  judge  nothing  before  the 
time."  Besides,  even  when  our  ventures  of  faith  appar- 
ently fail,  let  us  bear  in  mind  that,  as  George  Eliot  says, 
"failure  after  .  .  .  perseverance  is  much  grander  than 
never  to  have  had  a  striving  good  enough  to  be  called  a 
failure."  .  .  .  "Songs  in  the  night!"  Yes,  at  the 
touch  of  the  Spirit  and  the  power  of  Christ  the  unlikely 
does  happen  sometimes:  witness  the  marvellous  growth  of 
Christianity  itself  from  the  most  minute  and  obscure  and 
despised  beginnings.  "For  who  hath  despised  the  day  of 
small  things?"     . 

My  friends,  does  it  seem  to  any  of  you  today  as  if  the 
Peace  Song  of  the  angels  had  been  forever  silenced, — for- 
ever lost  in  the  black  night  of  human  treachery  and  strife 
and  race-hatred  and  blatant  and  blazing  warfare?    If  such 


238  The  Imperishable  Heart 

is  your  thought,  will  you  just  think  of  these  two  things? 

In  the  first  place,  will  you  bear  in  mind  that,  with  re- 
markably little  difference,  "it  was  into  just  such  a  world 
as  this,  a  world  ruled  by  the  iron  hand  .  .  .  divided 
by  class  hatreds,  oppressed  by  tyranny  and  greed,  filled 
with  murder  and  pride  and  lust — (it  was  into  just  such  a 
world  as  this)  that  the  Divine  Child  came.  ...  It 
was  because  the  world  was  such  a  world  that  Immanuel 
came."  If  ever  the  Gospel  was  needed,  it  was  then.  And, 
if  ever  the  Gospel  was  needed,  it  is  now. 

And  so,  my  friends,  if,  today,  we  cannot  sing  the  Christ- 
mas song  of  'Peace  on  earth, — goodwill  among  men' — if 
we  cannot  sing  that  song  with  the  assurance  that  it  is  true 
today  and  amply  fulfilled,  let  us  at  least  sing  it  with  the 
assurance  that  it  is  needed  today  as  almost  never  before. 
For  "the  darker  the  day,  the  more  we  must  pray."  Ay, 
and  the  darker  the  night,  the  more  we  have  need  of  the 
music  of  God,  "Who  giveth  songs  in  the  night." 

And,  for  a  second  thing — and  a  last  thing  this  morning 
— will  you  take  this  with  you?  There  is  a  passage  in  one 
of  the  Gospels  which  tells  us  that,  when  at  one  time  Jesus 
sought  retirement  "and  would  have  no  man  know  it,"  He 
was  followed  after  all,  and  dicovered;  for  "He  could  not 
be  hid."  And  there  is  an  old  English  legend  to  the  effect 
that  the  bells  of  buried  Churches — Churches  long  disused 
and  crumbled  to  pieces  and  their  stones  all  but  covered  out 
of  sight  by  the  accumulated  soil  of  the  centuries — that  the 
bells  of  these  buried  Churches  may  always  be  heard  on 
Christmas  Eve.  Even  so,  brethren,  our  Christian  ideals 
and  our  Christian  purposes,  and  the  appeals  of  the  Christ 
for  human  rectitude  and  human  brotherhood  and  love, 


Songs  in  the  Night  239 

may  seem,  time  and  again,  to  be  buried  out  of  all  sight  and 
out  of  all  memory.  But,  at  such  a  season  as  this  (our 
blessed  Christmastide),  our  ears  are  surprised  by  the  call 
of  these  buried  things,  and  we  hear  again  the  appeal  of  the 
CHRIST — the  pleadings  of  the  King  of  Love.  Yes, 
indeed,  "Christmas  will  survive  this  war" :  for  Christmas 
means  "the  love  of  God  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our 
Lord." 


XXIV 

THE  CHILDREN 
(Children's  Day) 

"And  He  took  a  child,  and  set  him  in  the  midst/' — Mark 
IX,  36. 

npHE  Child  in  the  midst!  What  a  splendid  object- 
lesson  !  What  an  irresistible  appeal !  Better  than  dis- 
course and  book  and  blackboard  all  together.  For  there 
is  nothing  so  wonderful — there  is  nothing  so  full  of  sug- 
gestions and  possibilities — as  a  little  child.  That  little 
piece  of  flesh  and  blood:  that  young  mind:  that  bud  of  a 
soul — about  to  open  to  the  great  wide  world  of  things 
and  of  thoughts. 

The  Child  in  the  midst !  One  of  God's  very  best  gifts. 
Pity  those  who  do  not  think  so!  Not  to  love  children  is 
to  stand  condemned.  To  "despise  one  of  these  little 
ones"  is  inhuman :  nay,  according  to  Christ  Himself,  It  is 
to  be  in  grave  danger  of  being  thrust. 

"out  of  the  ken  of  God 
"Or  care  of  man,  for  ever  and  ever  more!" 
And  so,  my  friends,  you  will  find  that  mostly  all  the 
great  men  and  women,  the  big  souls,  the  real  benefactors 
of  Humanity  have  been  drawn  as  by  a  magnet  to  the 
children,  and  have  loved  the  bairns, — whether  they  had 
bairns  of  their  own  or  not.  Ay,  and  some  of  the  saddest 
and  most  thwarted  souls  of  mankind  have  received  half 
their  comfort  from  the  gaiety  and  grace  of  the  children. 
"Blessed  be  childhood,"  says  Amiel   (and  he  was  a  sad 

240 


The  Children  24 1 

enough  soul),  "(blessed  be  childhood),  which  brings  down 
something  of  heaven  into  the  minds  of  our  rough  earthli- 
ness.  .  .  .  Blessed  be  childhood  for  the  good  that  it 
does,  and  for  the  good  which  it  brings  about  carelessly  and 
unconsciously,  by  simply  making  us  love  it  and  letting 
itself  be  loved.  What  little  of  Paradise  we  see  still  on 
earth  is  due  to  its  presence  among  us."  And  Robert 
Louis  Stevenson  used  to  say,  in  the  times  of  his  ill-health 
and  uncertain  prospects,  "I  like  children  better  every  day, 
I  think,  and  most  other  things  less.  ...  I  don't 
know  how  to  go  by  them  for  the  love  of  them,  especially 
the   very   wee   ones." 

We  are  not  surprised,  then,  that  JESUS  loved  the  chil- 
dren; that  He  "took  them  up  in  His  arms,  put  His  hands 
upon  them,  and  blessed  them;"  and  that  He  put  them 
forward,  once  and  again,  as  the  exponents  of  some  of  His 
deepest  teaching  on  the  meaning  and  the  mystery  of  the 
Kingdom  of  God  on  earth.  O,  how  difiEerently  we  should 
have  thought  of  the  Christ,  had  we  not  had  those  fair 
glimpses  of  His  reverence  and  love  of  the  little  ones! 
Without  those  glimpses  what  a  blank  there  would  have 
been !  They  bring  Him  so  near  us.  And  they  bring  the 
children  themselves  so  near  Him.  They  seem  to  belong 
to  Christ  by  a  special  kind  of  propriety.  I  can't  for  the 
life  of  me  see  how  anyone  can  object  to  Infant  Baptism, 
as  it  is  practised  in  the  vast  majority  of  the  Branches  of 
Christ's  Church.  To  my  mind,  in  the  light  of  the  Gos- 
pel record,  it  is  the  most  appropriate  thing  imaginable. 
"And  they  brought  young  children  to  Jesus,  that  HE 
should  touch  them :"  and  we  know  what  happened. 


242  The  Imperishable  Heart 

The  child  in  the  midst!  What  a  challenge!  What  a 
clear  call  to  us  to  realize  our  responsibilities !  There  they 
are — the  little  lives:  needing  our  protection,  needing  our 
leadership,  needing  our  prayers,  needing  our  love  .  .  . 
There  they  are,  too, — the  coming  citizens  and  leaders  of 
the  Commonwealth:  and  they  will  be  in  large  part  what 
we  make  them.  .  .  .  There  they  are,  too,  the  future 
members  and  supporters  of  the  Christian  Church:  and 
they  will  be  in  large  part  what  we  are.  .  .  .  O  yes, 
the  children  are  a  great  joy;  but  they  are  a  grim  chal- 
lenge as  well.  God  help  those  who  accept  only  the  joy 
of  it  all,  while  failing  to  see  the  challenge  of  it.  For  I 
tell  you,  brethren,  as  I  look  away  back  upon  my  own  early 
life,  and  as  I  look  round  about  me  today,  I  am  more  and 
more  convinced  that  one  of  the  most  difficult  tasks  in  life 
is  just  the  task  of  'training  up  the  children  in  the  way  they 
should  go.'  O,  it  sounds  so  like  a  copy-book  maxim — 
that  verse  of  the  Book  of  Proverbs,  "Train  up  a  child  in 
the  way  he  should  go."  But,  in  good  sooth,  it  is  more 
than  a  mere  copy-book  maxim :  it  is  a  stern  reality,  and  re- 
quires an  amazing  amount  of  both  grit  and  grace.  And 
let  me  tell  you,  fathers  and  mothers, —  (and,  mark  you,  a 
son  or  daughter  can  say  this  with  as  much  right-of-experi- 
ence  and  with  as  much  impressiveness  as  any  parent  can 
say  it) — well,  let  me  tell  you,  it  will  be  an  awful  thing 
if  any  of  your  children  shall  ever  have  to  say  in  after 
life,  "Had  we  been  better  guided,  we  should  not  have 
made  shipwreck  of  our  lives." 

But  surely  there  is  a  great  joy  at  the  heart  of  the  respon- 
sibility. Indeed  I  am  prepared  to  believe  that  the  joy  of 
fatherhood — or  of  motherhood — is  just  about  the  purest 


The  Children  243 

and  most  substantial  happiness  that  this  world  holds  for 
us  mortals.  For  is  not  the  highest  kind  of  happiness  the 
happiness  which  most  successfully  lifts  one  out  of  oneself  ? 
And  that,  I  trow,  is  what  the  joy  of  parenthood  does. 

Yes,  what  a  difference  the  Child  in  the  house  makes! 
Not  simply  that  there  is  a  deal  of  noise  where  there  used 
to  be  quietness.  Nor  yet  simply  that  all  the  household  ar- 
rangements and  household  duties  seem  to  centre  now 
around  the  little  one.  But  rather  that,  for  the  parents 
themselves,  the  whole  perspective  of  life  is  altered,  and  the 
future  all  re-mapped  and  re-colored:  especially  so  in  the 
case  of  a  first-born.     Everything  is  different.     .     .     . 

And  that,  my  friends,  is  what  I  wish  to  make  most  of 
this  morning:  not  so  much  what  we  may  do  for  the  chil- 
dren, as  what  the  children  may  do — and  are  doing — for  us. 

The  Child  in  the  midst  is  teaching  us  all  sorts  of  lessons, 
and  furnishing  us  with  all  sorts  of  inspirations. 

How  the  children  appeal  to  us  by  their  very  frolics  and 
make-believes!  How  they  help  to  keep  us  human,  and  to 
lighten  our  burdens,  and  to  make  many  of  our  anxieties 
appear  ridiculous!  No  wonder  Amiel  said,  "Blessed  be 
childhood  for  the  good  it  doesV^ 

How  they  appeal  to  us,  too,  by  their  outright  affection ! 
And,  just  as  its  homeliest  doll  is  usually  the  little  one's 
favorite  of  all  its  dolls,  even  so  sometimes  the  most  un- 
likely individuals  often  taste  of  a  child's  affection.  I  was 
reading  lately  about  a  party  of  visitors  who  were  going 
through  a  State's  prison.  In  the  party  was  a  girl  of  very 
tender  years,  who  soon  became  very  tired.  The  officer  in 
charge  of  the  party  hailed  one  of  the  prisoners,  and  asked 
him  to  carry  the  child.    At  the  close  of  the  tour  of  inspec- 


244  The  Imperishable  Heart 

tion  the  child's  mother  told  her  to  thank  the  prisoner: 
which  she  did — child  fashion — by  putting  her  arms  round 
his  neck  and  kissing  him.  That  was  too  much  for  the  pris- 
oner. He  turned  his  head  and  hurried  away, — the  tears 
rolling  down  his  cheeks.  The  appeal  of  love  had  gone  to 
his  heart,  and — who  knows? — had  made  a  new  man  of 
him.  For,  as  the  writer  of  the  story  adds,  *'A  loving  little 
child  is  a  good  deal  like  the  dear  Lord  Jesus.  A  loving 
little  child  is  more  like  the  great  God  than  the  rest  of  us." 
— "We  love  Him,  because  He  first  loved  us." 

You  know,  too,  my  friends, — many  of  you — how  much 
the  Child  in  the  house  means  in  the  day  of  trouble,  very 
specially  in  the  shadowed  hours  of  bereavement.  When 
the  wave  which  has  curled  itself  up  on  the  rock  is  pulled 
back  and  slips  down,  it  finds  another  resting-place — the 
soft  sand  below.  Even  so,  when  some  maturer  soul  who 
has  companioned  you  for  years  slips  your  mortal  grasp  and 
you  have  to  let  go,  thank  God  if  He  has  left  you  some 
slenderer,  but  no  less  sincere,  affection  to  rest  upon — In 
the  hearts  of  your  children.  "And  a  little  child  shall  lead 
them." 

And  then  I  believe,  brethren,  It  Is  the  Child  In  the  midst 
who  is  going  to  solve  a  great  many  of  our  problems  for  us : 
I  mean,  the  prospects  of  the  children  of  today,  the  demands 
of  their  lives,  and  our  desires  for  them. 

Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,  for  instance,  that  the  liquor 
problem  will  not  be  solved  when  people  have  once  made 
up  their  minds  whether  or  not  they  wish  their  boys  and 
girls  to  tamper  with  alcohol? 

And  what  about  the  menace  of  war — the  rank  Idiocy  of 
war?    There  is,  I  have  been  told,  a  famous  picture  depict- 


The  Children  245 

ing  the  departure  of  a  soldier  from  his  home  for  immediate 
action  on  the  field.  He  is  in  the  act  of  bidding  his  wife 
and  little  girl  good-bye ;  and  the  little  girl  is  represented  as 
saying  to  him  "Daddy,  are  you  going  away  to  kill  some 
other  little  girl's  daddy?"  Why,  a  scene  like  that  is  more 
eloquent  than  hundreds  of  volumes — on  the  inhumanity  of 
warfare — the  ungodliness  of  it — the  very  devilishness  of  it. 
Yes,  because  a  great  nation  receives  some  slight  affront, 
shall  it  proceed  to  deprive  scores  of  its  own  mothers  and 
children  and  scores  of  the  mothers  and  children  of  the 
other  party  of  their  bread-winners ?  Murder!  It  is  noth- 
ing more  nor  less.  And  the  diplomats  don't  do  the  fight- 
ing: and  the  gun-manufacturers  pocket  the  dollars,  and 
chuckle.  When  are  we  going  to  open  our  eyes  and  see! 
Then,  my  friends,  you  have  only  to  read  a  book  like 
George  Eliot's  delightful  little  story  "Silas  Marner,"  in 
order  to  see  how  a  Child  may  alter  the  whole  course  of  a 
man's  life  and  give  a  totally  new  direction  to  his  ambi- 
tions,— in  order  to  see  that  (as  Wordsworth  says,  quoted 
by  Geo.  Eliot  on  the  title-page  to  "Silas  Marner"), 
"A  child,  more  than  all  other  gifts, 
"That  earth  can  offer  to  declining  man, 
"Brings  hope  with  it,  and  forward-looking  thoughts." 
But  here  is  a  more  modern  instance.  It  is  from  a  book 
called,  "The  Spirit  of  Youth  and  the  City  Streets" :  writ- 
ten by  that  remarkable  woman,  Jane  Addams,  of  Chicago. 
She  gives,  there,  the  following  account,  without  naming 
him,  of  "a  distinguished  labor  leader  in  England." — "His 
affections  had  been  starved,  even  as  a  child,  for  he  knew 
nothing  of  his  parents,  his  earliest  memories  being  asso- 
ciated with  a  wretched  old  woman,  who  took  the  most  cas- 


246  The  Imperishable  Heart 

ual  care  of  him.  When  he  was  nine  years  old  he  ran  away 
to  sea  and  for  the  next  seven  years  led  the  rough  life  of  a 
dock  laborer,  until  he  became  interested  in  a  little  crippled 
boy,  who  by  the  death  of  his  father  had  been  left  solitary 
on  a  freight  boat.  My  English  friend  promptly  adopted 
the  child  as  his  own,  and  all  the  questions  of  life  centered 
about  his  young  protege.  He  was  constantly  driven  to 
attend  evening  meetings,  where  he  heard  discussed  those 
social  conditions  which  bear  so  hard  upon  the  weak  and 
sick.  The  crippled  boy  lived  until  he  was  fifteen,  and  by 
that  time  the  regeneration  of  his  foster-father  was  com- 
plete,— the  young  docker  was  committed  for  life  to  the 
bettering  of  social  conditions.  It  is  doubtful"  adds  Miss 
Addams,  "(it  is  doubtful)  whether  any  abstract  moral  ap- 
peal could  have  reached  such  a  roving  nature.  .  .  . 
Only  a  pull  upon  his  deepest  sympathies  and  affections, 
his  desire  to  protect  and  cherish  a  weaker  thing,  could  pos- 
sibly have  stimulated  him."  .  .  .  Again  I  would 
quote  the  ancient  prophet,  "A  little  child  shall  lead  them." 
And  to  be  sure,  brethren,  we  can  never  forget  that, 
when  our  Father  in  heaven  wished  to  reveal  Himself  to 
man  in  all  the  tenderness  of  His  grace  and  in  all  His 
human-heartedness  (if  I  may  put  it  so),  and  when  He 
wished  to  convince  us  of  His  interest  in  every  aspect  and 
stage  of  human  life.  He  brought  it  to  pass  that  "the 
Word  became  flesh"  and  "Jesus  was  born  in  Bethlehem." 
And  if  the  story  of  Calvary  has  been  the  regeneration  of 
the  world,  let  us  remember  that  we  should  not  have  had 
the  story  of  Calvary  had  it  not  been  for  the  story  of 
Bethlehem  first. 


The  Children  :t47 

'*A  little   Child   the   Saviour  came."     .     .     . 
"And  He  took  a  child,  and  set  him  in  the  midst  of  them." 

My  friends,  I  have  another  thought  to  close  w^ith  to- 
day. Let  us  remember  that  wt  are  observing  this  as 
"Children's  Day."  Why  not  more  regularly  'set  the  chil- 
dren in  the  midst'  of  the  Church?  They  are  too  little 
with  us  here:  too  little  with  us,  I  mean,  in  the  staple 
services  of  the  Sanctuary — as  distinct  from  the  Sunday- 
School  hour.  Would  that  I  might  see  more  Children's 
faces  when  I  came  to  this  desk  of  a  Sunday  morning — or 
evening ! 

Now,  there  are  two  ways  of  looking  at  the  matter. 

One  way  of  looking  at  it  is  that,  just  as  a  Child  has 
a  right  to  be  housed  and  fed  and  dressed  and  educated 
and  so  on,  even  so  a  Child  has  a  right  to  the  Gospel  and 
the  Institutions  of  the  Gospel — a  right  to  the  teachings 
and  associations  and  influences  of  the  Sanctuary.  Conse- 
quently a  parent  who  does  not  encourage  his  children  to 
take  advantage  of  their  Gospel  rights  is  as  untrue  to  his 
trust  as  a  parent  who  fails  to  house  or  feed  or  dress  or 
educate  his  children.     You  can't  get  past  that. 

But  there  is  another  way  of  looking  at  the  matter.  As 
I  have  already  said,  I  am  thinking  for  the  most  part  to- 
day of  what  the  Children  may  do  for  us — if  we  give  them 
the  chance.  Just  think,  then,  what  the  Children  might  do 
for  us  (what,  indeed,  might  they  not  do  for  us?)  if  they 
were  with  us  here  Sunday  after  Sunday  with  fair  regular- 
ity and  in  dozens :  and  there  is  no  reason  why  they  should 
not  be.  I  venture  to  say,  they  would  brighten  the  worship 
immensely.     They  would  enliven  the  praise  immensely. 


248  The  Imperishable  Heart 

They  would  cheer  the  preacher,  and  improve  the  preach- 
ing immensely.  Why,  an  assembled  congregation  without 
Children  Sunday  after  Sunday — or  with  only  the  merest 
handful  of  boys  and  girls  between  the  ages,  say,  of  eight 
and  eighteen — is  an  incomplete  and  incongruous  thing  al- 
together. It  is  like  a  piece  of  music  with  all  the  parts 
— except  the  Melody.  Or  it  is  like  a  portrait  on  can- 
vass— with  the  Eyes  left  out.  O  yes,  with  all  respect 
to  my  maturer  hearers,  I  would  say,  Let  us  not  be  with- 
out the  Melody,  let  us  not  be  without  the  Eyes.  You 
remember  that  Praise  Psalm  (we  read  it  this  morning) 
where  it  says,  "Praise  the  Lord  .  .  .  both  young 
men  and  maidens;  old  men,  and  children/'  And  in  one 
of  his  prophetic  pictures — speaking  of  the  ideal  city — the 
prophet  Zechariah  has  this  to  say,  "And  the  streets  of  the 
city  shall  be  full  of  boys  and  girls  playing  in  the  streets 
thereof."  To  be  sure  an  audience  entirely  composed  of 
adult  men  or  adult  women  is  very  impressive.  But,  my 
friends,  in  the  ordinary  services  of  the  Church  we  need 
the  boys  and  girls — we  need  the  Child  in  the  midst. 

Well,  I  suppose  it  is  not  altogether  the  Children's 
fault  that  they  are  not  here  in  larger  numbers.  We  can 
scarcely  expect  the  Children  to  come,  if  the  Parents  don't 
come.  And  mark  you  this,  by  the  way:  don't  send  your 
children  to  Church, — bring  them.  Why  deprive  either 
yourselves  or  them  of  your  rights  and  privileges  in  this 
matter?  If  you  turn  to  the  Great  Book  here,  you  find 
that  the  Children  are  always  taken  into  account.  For 
example,  as  when  Moses  says,  "These  words,  which  I 
command  this  day,  shall  be  in  thine  heart;  and  thou 
shalt  teach  them  diligently  unto  thy  children:^  and  again, 


The  Children  249 

"Ye  stand  this  day  all  of  you  before  the  Lord  your  God ; 
your  captains  .  .  .  ,  your  elders,  and  your  officers, 
with  all  the  men  of  Israel,  your  little  ones,  and  your 
wives" — and  so  on.  And  there  are  scores  of  passages  of 
like  import.  Many  of  you  know  the  unspeakable  value 
of  the  Child  in  the  home, — and  the  joy  and  the  inspiration 
of  it.  Let  me  tell  you,  then,  the  Child  is  as  valuable  in 
the  CHURCH, — and  as  much  a  source  of  inspiration 
there.  And  let  me  tell  you  this  also :  notwithstanding  all 
the  imperfections  of  our  Christian  worship  and  Christian 
preaching,  the  Child  will  get  something  here — something 
very  precious,  too,  at  that — which  he  cannot  get  any- 
where else.  For  the  House  of  God  has  its  own  distinc- 
tive gifts. 

"And  HE  took  a  Child, 
and  set  him  in  the  midst  of  them." 


XXV 

THE  MOTHERS 
(Mother's  Day) 

"Thy  mother  shall  be  glad" — Proverbs  XXHI,  25. 

HP  HY  mother  shall  be  glad!"  And  who  in  all  the 
world  better  deserves  to  be  made  glad  than  one's 
mother?  A  mother's  gladness,  too,  is  so  beautifully  unsel- 
fish: for  it  is,  almost  invariably,  on  account  of  her  chil- 
dren. 

The  Bible  has  a  good  deal  to  say  about  Mothers.  There 
is,  for  example,  the  Fifth  Commandment  ("the  first  com- 
mandment with  promise,"  as  St.  Paul  describes  it),  "Hon- 
our thy  father  and  thy  mother :  that  thy  days  may  be  long 
upon  the  land  which  the  LORD  thy  God  giveth  thee." 
One  of  the  awesome  'curses'  in  the  Book  of  Deuteronomy 
is  in  these  terms,  "Cursed  be  he  that  setteth  light  by  his 
father  or  his  mother."  Then  in  the  account  of  the 
Hebrew  kings  it  is  said  of  one  and  another  and  another  of 
them,  for  some  mysterious  reason,  "And  his  mother's  name 
was"  so-and-so.  In  this  Book  of  Proverbs,  besides  the 
words  of  our  text,  you  have  such  passages  as  these:  "My 
son  .  .  .  forsake  not  the  law  of  thy  mother,"  "a  fool- 
ish son  is  the  heaviness  of  his  mother,"  and  so  on.  And  in 
the  last  chapter  of  Isaiah,  which  belongs  to  one  of  the 
most  eloquent  sections  of  all  Scripture,  you  have  that  won- 

250 


The  Mothers  251 

derful  suggestion  of  the  Mother-heart  of  the  Eternal — in 
addition  to  His  Fatherhood,  "As  one  whom  his  mother 
comforteth,  so  will  I  comfort  you ;  and  ye  shall  be  com- 
forted    .     .     ." 

The  Mothers  of  the  Bible,  too,  are  an  interesting  group, 
— from  Eve  "the  mother  of  all  living"  to  the  mysterious 
mother  of  the  Book  of  Revelation  who  "brought  forth  a 
man  child,  who  was  to  rule  all  nations  with  a  rod  of  iron : 
and  her  child  was  caught  up  unto  God,  and  to  His 
throne." 

Being  an  eminently  fair  and  frank  transcript  of  human 
life,  the  Bible  brings  to  our  notice  some  mothers  who  were 
by  no  means  model  mothers.  The  craftiness  of  Rebekah, 
for  instance,  reproduced  in  her  son  Jacob,  is  scarcely  to  our 
liking.  Then  there  was  Jezebel,  wife  of  Ahab  and  mother 
of  Jehoram,  who  would  stick  at  nothing  in  the  way  of  blood- 
shed to  gain  her  own  ends,  and  who  was  the  only  individ- 
ual of  either  sex  of  whom  the  rugged  prophet  Elijah  was 
afraid.  There  was  Herodias,  too,  who  was  responsible  for 
the  death  of  John  the  Baptist.    And  one  or  two  others. 

But  the  majority  of  the  Mothers  of  the  Bible  are  a  right 
good  sort.  Moses'  mother,  for  instance,  with  her  rare 
combination  of  adroitness  and  affection:  to  whom  the 
Egyptian  princess  innocently  handed  over  the  little  child  of 
the  ark  of  bulrushes,  with  these  words,  "Take  this  child 
away,  and  nurse  it  for  me,  and  I  will  give  thee  thy  wages." 
Then  Samuel's  mother,  with  her  prayers  and  her  praises, — 
'lending'  her  son  (as  she  phrased  it)  'lending'  her  son  to 
the  Lord  for  life,  and  caring  for  him  so  thoughtfully  and 
so  substantially  in  the  days  of  his  novitiate:  "moreover 
his  mother  made  him  a  little  coat,  and  brought  it  to  him 


252  The  Imperishable  Heart 

from  year  to  year,  when  she  came  up  with  her  husband  to 
offer  the  yearly  sacrifice"  (what  a  delightfully  human 
touch!).  Then  Mary,  "the  mother  of  Jesus," — "blessed 
.  .  .  among  women":  with  her  "My  soul  doth  mag- 
nify the  Lord,  and  my  spirit  hath  rejoiced  in  God  my  Sav- 
iour": amid  the  'wonderment'  of  men  and  women  'keep- 
ing all  these  things,  and  pondering  them  in  her  heart': 
with  her  Divine  Son  at  the  beginning  of  His  ministry — on 
the  occasion  of  the  marriage  in  Cana  of  Galilee,  and  with 
Him  at  the  end  of  His  ministry — 

"Near  the  cross  was  Mary  weeping. 
There  her  mournful  station  keeping." 
Then  there  were  the  mothers  who  "brought  young  chil- 
dren to  Jesus,  that  He  should  touch  them," — the  predeces- 
sors of  the  tens  of  thousands  of  mothers  who  have  been 
bringing  their  "young  children"  to  Jesus  ever  since.  Then 
Eunice — Timothy's  mother:  "when  I  call  to  remem- 
brance," writes  Paul  to  Timothy,  you  recollect,  ("when 
I  call  to  remembrance)  the  unfeigned  faith  that  is  in  thee, 
which  dwelt  first  in  thy  grandmother  Lois,  and  thy  mother 
Eunice." 

Outside  of  Scripture,  too,  what  a  host  of  good  mothers 
there  have  been :  some  of  them  on  the  roll  of  fame ! 

For  example,  St.  Augustine's  mother — Monica:  to 
whose  persevering  prayers  we  owe  the  conversion  of  her 
son  from  a  life  of  subtle  worldliness  and  self-pleasing,  and 
his  consequent  industry  and  saintliness.  It  is  told  of  Gar- 
ibaldi that  in  the  hottest  of  his  battles  he  seemed  to  see  his 
mother  on  her  knees  in  prayer.  John  Randolph,  "of  Roan- 
oke," an  American  congressman  of  whom  it  is  said  that  he 


The  Mothers  253 

was  "distinguished  for  his  eloquence,  wit,  sarcasm,  and 
eccentricity,"  wrote,  very  shortly  before  his  death,  to  a 
friend  in  these  terms,  "At  one  period  of  my  life  I  was  on 
the  point  of  becoming  an  .  .  .  atheist.  I  had  let  go 
my  hold  in  a  great  degree  of  the  doctrines  of  Christianity 
and  of  the  truths  of  the  Bible,  and  was  about  taking  the 
plunge  into  that  dreadful  abyss  of  atheism.  I  was  only 
held  back  from  it  by  the  recollection  that  when  I  was  a 
little  child  my  mother,  who  is  now  a  saint  in  heaven,  used 
to  make  me  kneel  by  her  side,  and  then,  taking  my  little 
hands  betw^een  hers,  taught  me  to  say,  'Our  Father,  Who 
art  in  heaven.'  "  And  it  was  Abraham  Lincoln  who  said, 
"All  that  I  am,  or  hope  to  be,  I  owe  to  my  angel  mother," 
Indeed,  my  friends,  there  is  nothing  so  impresses  one, 
in  reading  the  biographiesof  the  world's  great  men — I  mean 
the  real  "helpers  and  friends  of  mankind" — (there  is  noth- 
ing so  impresses  one)  in  almost  every  instance  as  just  this: 
the  debt  of  gratitude  we  owe  to  the  mothers  of  these  men 
for  their  finest  traits  of  character.  .  .  .  O  you  Moth- 
ers, I  wonder  if  you  realize  the  deep,  deep  reach  and  the 
long,  long  reach  of  your  influence.  I  tell  you,  there  is 
nothing  in  this  world  to  be  compared  to  it.  Living,  you 
can  work  spiritual  miracles  in  the  lives  of  your  children: 
and,  when  you  are  dead,  the  spiritual  miracles  will  not 
cease  to  be  wrought  by  the  persuasive  power  of  your  fra- 
grant memory. 

The  Literature  of  the  World,  too,  has  duly  honored 
Motherhood,  and  has  spoken  of  our  Mothers  in  terms 
of  much  appreciation  and  much  beauty. 

"The  holiest  thing  alive,"  writes  Coleridge  of  Mother- 


254  ^^^  Imperishable  Heart 

hood. 

Tennyson,  in  "The  Princess,"  after  making  the  Prince 
tell  of  the  influence  of  his  mother — 

"All    dipt 
"In  Angel  instincts,  breathing  Paradise, 
"Interpreter  between  the  Gods  and  men, 
"Who  look'd  all  native  to  her  place,  and  yet 
"On  tiptoe  seem'd  to  touch  upon  a  sphere 
"Too  gross  to  tread,  and  all  male  minds  perforce 
"Sway'd  to  her  from  their  orbits  as  they  moved, 
"And  girdled  her  with  music" — 
after  that  passage  he  makes  the  Prince  add, 

"Happy  he 
"With  such  a  mother!  faith  in  womankind 
"Beats  with  his  blood,  and  trust  in  all  things  high 
"Comes  easy  to  him,  and  tho'  he  trip  and  fall 
"He  shall  not  blind  his  soul  with  clay." 
One  of  the  most  impressive  poems  I  have  read  recently 
is  the  poem  entitled  "The  Daguerreotype,"  by  William 
Vaughn  Moody — a  poet  of  whom  this  Country  has  rea- 
son to  be  proud.     The  poem  represents  a  man  studying 
the  portrait  of  his  mother  as  she  was  when  a  girl, — 
"My  mother  as  she  looked  at  seventeen." 

"God,  how  Thy  ways  are  strange! 

"That  this  should  be,  even  this, 

"The  patient  head 

"Which  suflFered  years  ago  the  dreary  change! 

"That  these  so  dewy  lips  should  be  the  same 

"As  those  I  stooped  to  kiss 

"And  heard  my  harrowing  half-spoken  name, 


The  Mothers  255 

"A  little  ere  the  one  who  bowed  above  her, 
"Our  father  and  her  very  constant  lover, 
"Rose  stoical,  and  we  knew  that  she  was  dead." 
The  man  has  lived,  it  would  appear,  a  somewhat  disap- 
pointing life,  has  failed  to  fulfill  his  mother's  ambitions 
for  him:  and  so — still  gazing  at  the  picture — he  closes  on 
this  wise, 

"See,  I  was  yours  and  I  am  in  the  dust. 

"Then  look  not  so,  as  if  all  things  were  well ! 

"Take  your  eyes  from  me,  leave  me  to  my  shame, 

"Or  else,  if  gaze  they  must, 

"Steel  them  with  judgment,  darken  them  with  blame; 

"But  by  the  ways  of  light  ineffable 

"You  bade  me  go  and  I  have  faltered  from, 

"By  the  low  waters  moaning  out  of  hell 

"Whereto  my  feet  have  come, 

"Lay  not  on  me  these  intolerable 

"Looks  of  rejoicing  love,  of  pride,  of  happy  trust! 

"Nothing  dismayed? 

"By  all  I  say  and  all  I  hint  not  made 

"Afraid? 

"O  then,  stay  by  me!     Let 

"These  eyes  afflict  me,  cleanse  me,  keep  me  yet, 

"Brave  eyes  and  true! 

"See  how  the  shrivelled  heart,  that  long  has  lain 

"Dead  to  delight  and  pain, 

"Stirs,  and  begins  again 

"To  utter  pleasant  life,  as  if  it  knew 

"The  wintry  days  were  through; 

"As  if  in  its  awakening  boughs  it  heard 

"The  quick,  sweet-spoken  bird. 


256  The  Imperishable  Heart 

"Strong  eyes  and  brave, 

"Inexorable  to  save!" 
The  poem  from  beginning  to  end  is  a  thing  of  great  powd- 
er, as  well  as  great  pathos. 

Then,  to  be  sure,  we  have  Kipling's  famous  lines, — so 
boldly  beautiful: 

"If  I  were  hanged  on  the  highest  hill, 
Mother  o'  mine, 
I  know  whose  love  would  follow  me  still. 
Mother  o'  mine. 

"If  I  were  drowned  in  the  deepest  sea. 
Mother  o'  mine, 
I  know  whose  tears  would  come  down  to  me, 
Mother  0'  mine. 

"If  I  were  damned  of  body  and  soul. 

Mother  o'  mine, 
I  know  whose  prayers  would  make  me  whole. 

Mother  o'  mine." 
And  mark  you  this,  my  friends:  we  are  encouraged  by 
Christ  Himself  to  hold  to  the  persuasion  that  the  Love 
of  God  is  like  that,  that  the  Love  of  GOD  is  certainly  no 
less  tender,  no  less  patient,  no  less  enduring  than  the  best 
Mother's  love  we  have  ever  known.  For  isn't  that  the 
meaning  that  lies  at  the  heart  of  such  a  saying  of  the 
Master  as  this, — "If  ye  then,  being  evil,  know  how  to 
give  good  gifts  unto  your  children,  how  much  more  shall 
your  Father  which  is  in  heaven  give  good  things  to  them 
that  ask  Him!"     .     .     . 


The  Mothers  257 

But,  my  friends,  I  must  not  forget  my  little  text  this 
morning, — "Thy  mother  shall  be  glad." 

What  a  privilege — to  'gladden'  the  heart  of  any  fellow- 
human!  What  a  sublime  privilege — what  a  unique  privi- 
lege,— to  gladden  a  Mother's  heart! 

And  mark  you  this,  brethren:  nothing  that  the  mother 
herself  may  do  can  gladden  her  heart  half  so  much  as 
some  things  her  children  may  do.  Mothers  are  very  dis- 
cerning. Their  eyes  can  look  us  through.  God  help  us, 
then,  to  live  so  that  we  shall  be  able  to  face,  without 
wincing  and  without  a  blush  of  shame,  the  searching  look 
of  our  mothers'  understanding  eyes.  Our  mothers,  too, 
are  very  ambitious  for  us.  They  want  us  to  count  for 
something  in  this  world.  They  want  us  to  win  distinc- 
tion along  honorable  lines.  God  help  us,  then,  to  make 
the  most  of  ourselves — to  fulfill  our  mothers'  hopes. 

My  friends,  a  Mother's  Love  is  in  a  class  by  itself. 
There  is  nothing  in  the  world  just  like  it.  It  is  so  pure. 
It  is  so  patient.  It  never  grows  cold,  and  it  never  grows 
old.  And,  like  the  Love  of  GOD,  it  will  go  to  the 
utmost  limit  of  suffering  and  sacrifice.  Ay,  the  Mothers 
understand  the  Cross  of  Christ  better  than  anybody  else. 
Honor,  then,  to  whom  honor  is  due;    and,  love  for  love. 

One  of  the  blessed  com.pensations  of  growing  old  is 
that,  as  year  is  added  to  year,  we  come  to  understand  bet- 
ter what  our  parents  have  done  for  us  and  have  been  to 
us,  and  to  appreciate  more  fully  the  depth  of  their  devo- 
tion. When  we  were  but  bo^^s  and  girls,  we  didn't  half 
understand.  Thank  God  for  the  deeper  teachings  and 
the  added  insight  of  the  silent  years. 

We  sometimes  say,  "What  is  Home  without  a  Moth- 


258  The  Imperishable  Heart 

er?"  And  we  sometimes  speak  of  the  Heavenly  Country 
as  Home.  Well,  I  often  think  that  what  will  make  Heav- 
en Home  to  us  will  be  the  simple  fact  that  our  Mothers 
will  be  there, 

"Jesus,  in  mercy  bring  us 
To  that  dear  land  of  rest!" 

And  so,  brethren,  in  our  hearts,  and  in  the  best  ways — 
the  tcnderest  and  the  handsomest  ways — we  know  of,  let 
us  honor  the  MOTHERS  today!  Ay,  and  not  today 
only;  but  every  day. 

"Thy  mother  shall  be  gladV 

Ah,  but  there  are  many  sad  mothers  today.  Some  of 
them  are  sad,  because,  as  we  have  heard  the  Book  saying, 
'foolish  sons  are  the  heaviness  of  their  mothers.'  Others 
are  sad,  because  their  sons  have  been  wounded  or  killed 
in  battle,  or  have  been  brought  to  early  graves  by  accident 
or  disease.    And  there  are  various  other  reasons. 

Verily,  we  may  not  forget  the  sad  mothers  today.  'We 
commend  them  to  God,  and  to  the  word  of  His  grace.* 
For  we  know  that  the  only  chance  of  their  hearts  being 
made  glad  (as  it  is  the  only  chance  of  any  heart  being  made 
abidingly  glad)  is  that  they  'dwell  in  the  secret  place  of  the 
Most  High,  and  abide  under  the  shadow  of  the  Al- 
mighty,' and  that  they  receive  some  new  assurance  of  the 
Love  of  GOD — the  source  and  spring  of  their  own  love. 

And,  my  friends,  to  those  of  you  whose  mothers  are  no 
[onger  with  you  in  the  flesh  I  would  just  say,  there  is 
no  ?vch  thing  as  a  "dead"  mother.     "They  shall  see  His 


The  Mothers  259 

face" ;  and  In  the  light  of  His  countenance  and  in  the  in- 
spiration of  His  nearer  presence  they  love  you  better  than 
ever  and,  in  wondrous  w^ays,  they  are  ministering  to  you 
still.    Yes,  of  their  Ministry  of  Love  we  may  well  say, 
"Time  cannot   age   it, 
Death  cannot  slay." 
God  bless  our  Mothers,  then,  today — and  every  day. 
And  In  teaching  us  to  love  them  more  deeply  and  to  be 
Increasingly  loyal  to  their  thoughts  of  us  and  their  ambi- 
tions for  us,  may  the  Father  of  us  all  make  us  also  "to 
increase  and   abound   in   love  one   toward   another,   and 
toward  all  menV 


Princeton  Theological  Semmar^ 


1      1 


012  01196  9906 


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